


Touching the Sky

by hotleafjuice



Series: Guarded By the Sky [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Families of Choice, Fantastic Racism, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Multi, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Content, Side Quests, Vampires, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-04-14 13:32:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 63,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14137056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotleafjuice/pseuds/hotleafjuice
Summary: At the turn of the Fourth Era, a tragedy changes the course of a woman's life forever, leading her to the Dawnguard.





	1. The Tragedy of Living

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that I've been working on for a long time. I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are mine.

Auerelie longed for the warm embrace of the Summerset Isles, but the city of Shimmerene was a continent away. She had not been home in nearly ten years, and now, she stood against the cold, hard winters of Skyrim.

Wind relentlessly ripped across the plain, sending snow flying. The dark robes of the Justiciars stood out against the white, and it gave Auerelie something to focus on other than putting one foot in front of the other.

Her fellow soldiers looked as though they fared no better. The youngest of the group, Soriss, had his jaw clenched tightly to keep his teeth from chattering. Halidur and Imadith kept their complaints to themselves, but they, too, were miserable.

Bright, icy patterns formed in the grooves of their armor as they trudged across the wilderness. It would still be another three days before they reached the Thalmor Embassy.  
  
Justiciars Arncelmo and Taarana disagreed on whether to camp for the night or push on toward the embassy before the weather could get any worse. There was a moment when Auerelie was sure the two would come to blows, and her money was on Taarana, who was a powerful veteran battlemage. Arncelmo had youth on his side but not the experience. In the end, Taarana marched them onwards.  
  
Night set in, and the air felt weirdly heavy despite the wind through the trees. It put Auerelie at ill ease. She could not hear birds or the movement of animals in the brush. The moons hung low in the sky, casting the land in sharp relief. One hand rested on the hilt of her sword, and the other lifted her torch just a bit higher.

Just when she started to ease the tension in her shoulders, the sound of steel on steel rang out. Before she could fully draw her blade, several figures materialized out of the darkness. They moved so quickly that she could not track their numbers.

Bright white lightning arced around them, hitting one of the assailants directly in the chest; they did not get up again.

Taarana readied another spell, fire engulfing one hand while lightning sparked from the other. Imadith took to Taarana’s side, her bow drawn and ready.

Soriss and Halidur stood their ground, both with sword and shield. Auerelie dropped her torch in the snow, drawing her blade’s twin. On order, the three of them formed a semicircle in front of Arncelmo.

Auerelie brought her sword up in time to redirect a heavy blow from a mace-wielding orc. Her eyes flicked past his shoulders. There were seemingly countless eyes glowing in the darkness beyond the trees.

She turned in a quick circle, trying to follow enemy movement, but as suddenly as the eyes appeared, they vanished. Dread pooled in her stomach. Something was terribly wrong. The sound of her heart pounding in her ears drowned out the wind.

Halidur locked his blade with a large nord woman in heavy armor. He was forced on the defensive, his shield barely absorbing her crushing blows. When Halidur thought he had an opening, another woman joined the fray. He tried to push the two of them further from his comrades.

Engaging two trained warriors quickly took its toll.

Halidur stumbled back, his shield dented, and his sword-arm shaking. A third figure appeared behind him. He cried out, and all eyes turned toward him.

Auerelie reeled back, eyes wide. It was a vampire. The fiend had Halidur by the neck, teeth sunk in deep.  
  
That revelation rallied the soldiers.

Auerelie swung her swords in a graceful arc, metal sparking against the orc's mace. This close, she could see his dead-eyed stare. The orc was a vampire’s thrall.

She brought her blades overhead, blocking, but unable to push him back. The orc was stronger, and her arms were starting to buckle. She fell to the side, losing one sword in the process.

She rolled to her feet, her chest burning from the cold air. She dodged another attack. The orc rushed forward, mace held high.

Auerelie darted to his unarmed side, grabbing his arm as her hand crackled with white-hot fire. He screamed and flailed as his skin started to peel back.

Still, she held on, her nails digging into his flesh. The orc’s screams died off as the fire raced along his body.

After a moment, she released him, and he fell backward into the snow. The skin across his face bubbled, and she almost gagged at the smell of the orc cooked in his own armor.  
  
Arncelmo twirled a halberd nearly as long as he was tall. The blade sang as it sliced the air before connecting with a nord's battleaxe. Arncelmo continued his downward swing, pivoting his hips to turn around completely and bring the curved blade across the nord's stomach.

Armor took most of the damage, but it pushed him back. Imadith plunged an arrow through the back of the nord’s neck then drew another to pick off a thrall too close to Soriss.

  
Taarana wielded her magic like whips, fire and lightning branching off like a cat-o'-nine-tails. She was deadly, fluid grace, a dance perfected over a hundred years. One vampire already lay at her feet. Another vampire shot off streams of red light, an uncommon spell used to drain a person’s life-force.  
  
Auerelie's gaze swept across the battle. Soriss, Arncelmo, and Imadith were fending off three more vampires. She hefted her weapon again, her breath clouding in front of her face.

Soriss beat his sword against his shield, trying to draw attention away from Imadith. One vampire took that challenge.  
  
The battle appeared to turn in their favor as they cut down two more vampires. That victory was short lived when Arncelmo staggered forward, blood bubbling from his lips, and red blooming across his robes. He fell to his knees, revealing a dark elf woman with a bloody grin.

Soriss charged, shield ready to bash the woman's face in. The dark elf was quick, moving with the sort of agility that blurred movement. She jammed a long, thin knife into Soriss' underarm, and his sword fell in the shock of pain.  
  
Auerelie pulled her sword from one of the vampires, her muscles already flexing to run, but there was no time.

The vampire ripped the knife free and with the flick of her wrist, brought the blade across Soriss’ throat. Auerelie cried out at the spray of blood.

Taarana left the last fledgling vampire in a smoldering ruin. Auerelie and Taarana  stood their ground, waiting for the next move. Imadith silently took position behind them, arrow notched.

“It is just you and I, mortals.” The dark elf took a couple of steps back then began to convulse violently. Auerelie paled as the woman transformed into some winged, nightmarish creature.  
  
Taarana clapped her hands together, magic crackling as she pulled them apart again, creating a bound spear made of flame.

Auerelie breathed in deep, for once grateful for the sharp, cold air.

Imadith released her arrow the moment the creature’s transformation was complete.

The creature leaped forward, arrow in its shoulder and blood-red light gathered in its claws.

Auerelie tried to push the beast back with a powerful stroke of her sword, but it possessed unyielding strength.

Its claws found purchase against Auerelie’s left side, her armor giving way to the beast’s power. Magic burned against her skin, spreading outward rapidly.

Her vision blurred, and her heart hammered wildly in her chest. She could not breathe.

Frantically, she grabbed the vampire's wing, lightning pouring from her hand.  
  
The beast screeched, the sound ringing in Auerelie’s ears. Dagger-like claws swiped across her head, rending her helmet.

She staggered back, blood pouring across the right side of her face.

The last thing she could recall was the feeling of snow seeping into her armor and the irregular beat of her heart.

 

*******

 

Auerelie shivered awake, her body stiff and throbbing. It took several long minutes for her to remember where she was then she could not get to her feet fast enough.

In the morning light, she looked across the remains of the battle.

Arncelmo was still face down in the snow, which was tinged red all around him. Soriss' lifeless eyes stared up at the sky, wide and afraid. The side of Halidur’s neck gaped open, and his skin had gone gray. Imadith was nearby. Her bow was broken, and one of her arms was gone.  
  
Auerelie took a couple of steps before falling to one knee. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. She could not draw air in fast enough; the cold made her choke. Her vision grayed at the edges, and her eyes welled with tears. She curled forward, burying her head in her arms as she rocked back and forth.

Eventually, her breathing evened out. She looked at the strewn bodies once more, noting the lack of one. She nearly tripped in her haste to stand. “Lady Taarana?” Auerelie pushed her hair back from her face, her hand coming away tacky with blood. She rubbed her face violently with both hands, and flakes of old blood rained in front of her.  
  
Auerelie stumbled through the snow, silently repeating prayers to Auri-El over and over again. “Justiciar Taarana!” In return, she heard a soft, weak noise. She found the battlemage propped up against a bare, stunted tree. She started to reach for Taarana, but the woman waved her off.  
  
“I'm dying.” She pressed her hand to her side, where she had several deep gashes. There were also burns and strange black, spiderweb-like marks. “That creature is dead.”  
  
Auerelie shook her head. “The Embassy is close enough for there to be a patrol on the road.”  
  
“Hush, child. It's done.” Taarana tilted her head back to rest against the tree trunk. “Send my apologies to the commander.”  
  
“You can apologize in person, Justiciar Taarana.” Her hands shook as she reached for her fellow altmer.  
  
“Sometimes, there are wounds that go well beyond healing magic.” She took one of Auerelie's hands. “You fought well. There is no shame.” Her eyes closed. “You remind me of my own daughter.”

With her free hand, Auerelie scrubbed at her eyes. In the end, she sat next to Taarana, holding the woman’s hand while her breaths became slower and more shallow until stopping completely.

 

*******

 

Auerelie did not remember the trip to the embassy. A patrol found her sometime in the early afternoon. Silent with pain, shock, and cold, she submitted herself to the attentions of healers.

Sleep would not come, and every time she closed her eyes, there was blood and fear and eyes in the dark. At night, her room stayed bright with magelight. After four days, she was called to stand before First Emissary Elenwen and Commander Ondolemar of the Justiciars.  
  
Elenwen looked down at a sheaf of papers. “You are First Sergeant Auerelie of Shimmerene, stationed in Skyrim under Senior Justiciar Taarana.” There was no note of question in her voice, so Auerelie said nothing. “I have read the report written by your hand. What do you have to say for yourself?”  
  
Auerelie's lips parted, but she could not force out a single word. She looked between the two most powerful and influential mer in Skyrim, and she could not say anything.  
  
Elenwen looked at her, expression pinched. “Yes, well, they said you were struck dumb.”

  
Ondolemar turned his attention to Auerelie. “Have you encounter vampires before, sergeant?” Auerelie shook her head in response. “And you are the only one to survive this attack?” She nodded slowly. “Why?”  
  
Elenwen crossed her arms, and Ondolemar waited with patience. Auerelie swallowed hard, fidgeting with her robes. Elenwen stood suddenly. “Out with it, girl.” She walked around the table. “I am a busy woman, and you waste my time.”  
  
A full minute of silence went by before Auerelie choked out a cry. “I don't know why.” She shook her head, her eyes screwed shut. “I don't know!” She gripped her robes tightly, her fingers twisting in the fabric. “She's dead. Gods, they're all dead.”  
  
“You may go.” Elenwen sighed. “We will continue this when you can control yourself.”  
  
Auerelie pulled at the long braid hanging over her left shoulder. “Please,” she whispered, “You have to do something.”  
  
Ondolemar started, “We will look--”  
  
“No. We do not have the men for that. Let these heathen barbarians deal with it.”  
  
“Lady Ambassador, surely that isn't wise.”  
  
“My job here is to further the Dominion's interests. As is yours, commander.”  
  
“This problem comes with the price of mer blood.”  
  
“They are dead, therefore, of no further use. I will send my reports to Alinor. Dismissed.”  
  
Auerelie stared at Elenwen, dismayed. “You'll do nothing? You have to do something!” She took a few steps forward. “They're dead! Killed by those bloodsucking nightmares. I saw one of them transform into an unholy beast.”  
  
Elenwen cut her eyes over to Auerelie. “This is of no issue to the Dominion.”  
  
“ _Hang_ the Dominion!” Auerelie felt white-hot rage bloom under her skin. “Men or mer, they don't care. They'll kill us all!”  
  
Elenwen gestured to the guards standing at the door. “We're done here.”  
  
Auerelie cried when the guards grabbed her arms, pulling her back. Still weak, she struggled feebly against them. She shook with wordless anger and terror, tears spilling down her cheeks. Elenwen did not even look at Auerelie, her attention on the papers in her hand. Ondolemar watched silently.

  
  
*******

 

Time became a strange concept for Auerelie, and she did not know how many days passed her by. She rarely left her room and slept very little.

Food held no appeal, so she begun to lose weight. Her movements were listless.

Every once in awhile, she would catch sight of herself in the mirror. The vampire's magic had burned into her skin permanently. The wounds were now just pink lines that would fade into scars. She had the sides of her head shorn, leaving her pale gold hair long on top, which she normally kept in a single braid.

  
She sat by the window in one of the small libraries. She did not have the energy or the focus for reading, but she liked to be around books. She did not notice that someone had taken the seat across from hers until they cleared their throat. She blinked slowly, and the world came back into focus. “Commander?” Ondolemar nodded.  
  
Ondolemar presented her with a roll of paper held close by his personal seal and the seal of the Aldmeri Dominion. “First Sergeant Auerelie, you are honorably discharged from the army of the Aldmeri Dominion. When weather permits, you will return home.”  
  
Auerelie stared at the paper for a moment before taking it with unsteady hands. “The... Elenwen decided this?” She dropped her head.  
  
“No.” Ondolemar caught her gaze. “I decided this. You served well, and you would have gone far. What happened was a tragedy. I had nothing but respect and admiration for Taarana, and Arncelmo showed a great deal of promise. I have already written their families as well as the families of the others.”  
  
Her smile was brittle. “I didn't think you could be kicked out of the Thalmor.”  
  
Ondolemar's mouth twitched with genuine amusement. “There are always exceptions.”  
  
“And the First Emissary will still do nothing?” She worried the edges of the parchment.  
  
“I am afraid that I answer to Elenwen on a great many things, but I am still the commander of Skyrim's justiciars. I decide military movement even if she controls the numbers. Truly, we don't have the soldiers to spare, but I'll maneuver the patrols as best I can.” Ondolemar stood in one fluid motion.  
  
Auerelie looked grim. Logically, she understood, but that did not change how she felt. “I understand, commander. Thank you.”

  
  
*******

  
Auerelie looked up at the sky, both the moons waning to slivers. She took a few moments to stare at the stars. Shivering in her cloak, she pulled up the hood before leaving out of the gates. She did not see how she could return home and pretend that nothing was wrong. The thought sat heavy in her chest. Ondolemar meant well, and she was surprised by the gesture, but the Isles felt like a lifetime ago. Losing her patrol felt like years instead of three months.  
  
There was a supply wagon going to Solitude. It left at first light, and she went with it. The trip was uneventful, but that did not stop her from being hyper aware of her surroundings. The constant feeling of being on edge was exhausting.  
  
She left the wagon at Katla's farm and continued the rest of the way on foot. She had never been inside the city's gates, and she found it quaint. It was difficult to impress mer from the ancient homeland. These men would never see the crystal-glass spires of Alinor or the towering, vine-like buildings of Cloudrest. She was born in Shimmerene, the city of lights with an array of colors bright enough to dazzle the eye.  
  
The inn was called The Winking Skeever. She was not sure what to expect with a name like that, but the owner was welcoming enough. It probably helped that she left behind the gold armor of the Thalmor, donning simple traveler's garb. This late in the evening, the bar was full to bursting, and there was no lack of food, drink, or song.  
  
Auerelie wedged herself into the furthest corner she could find. She took note of how diverse the room was, and it made her relax fractionally. At the table adjacent to hers, a nord was trying to sell his sword-arm to a nervous looking merchant.  
  
“I'll get you to Whiterun for the modest sum of five hundred gold.”  
  
“That's... more than I was looking to pay.”  
  
The nord laughed. “Surely, you need the protection. Roads are more dangerous than ever. Unless you think you can take on wild beasts, bandits, and Gods know what else. I've even heard talk of vampires.”  
  
That made the merchant look faint. “Vampires?”  
  
“Aye. Heard talk of some folks reforming the Dawnguard. Good luck to the poor sods.” He drained his mug, mead dripping from the corners of his mouth. “Some orc tried to tell me about it a while back.”  
  
Auerelie tried to look as though she was not hanging on their every word. There was a group forming specifically for fighting vampires, and the thought made her break out in a cold sweat but also lit a fire in her gut. She waited until the second the merchant left to take his seat.  
  
The nord eyed her over his mug. “Aye, lass?”  
  
“I want to know about the Dawnguard.”  
  
“Heard that, did you?” He flashed her a rakish smile. “What's the information worth?”  
  
Auerelie frowned. “Nothing,” she replied perhaps a bit too forcefully. She started to get up.  
  
“Hold it. Hold it, lass.” He gestured toward her. “Let's start this thing over. I'm Belrand, blade-for-hire, spellsword, and an appreciator of beautiful women.”  
  
Auerelie's eyebrows rose slightly. “I am Auerelie, and I have _no_ appreciation of impertinent men, especially unwashed nords.”  
  
Belrand laughed loudly. “Fair enough.” He took a swig of mead. “What did you want to know?”  
  
“The Dawnguard? They hunt vampires?”  
  
He nodded. “They do. Looking for recruits last I heard. Dangerous business, that.”  
  
“This coming from a mercenary.” Her mouth quirked into something like a smile. “What if I want to join?”  
  
Belrand looked thoughtful. “Well, I hear the base is Fort Dawnguard. Good long ways from here. East of Riften past Stendarr’s Beacon.” He flagged down Sorex Vinius. “That's a hard life, lass. And this coming from a mercenary. Short life, too.”  
  
Auerelie shrugged. “Death comes to us all.”  
  
Sorex returned with drinks and food, laying it out between them. Auerelie frowned. “Don't look like that, elf. You look like you could use a hot meal.”  
  
“I don't need your charity, human.”  
  
Belrand laughed. “Just trying to feed you, girl.” Auerelie bristled, but she could not deny that she was hungry. In the end, she caved. Even the mead was palatable. “You know your next stop from here?”  
  
She looked up, eyeing Belrand speculatively. “Yes,” she answered reluctantly.  
  
“Don't keep me in suspense.”  
  
“Dragon Bridge.”  
  
“Tell Faida I sent ya. She owns the inn. She'll fix you up.” Belrand lifted his drink. “Now, back to this fine meal.”

  
  
*******

  
Auerelie set out just as the light of the sun was starting to spill over the horizon. There was an Imperial Legion patrol going the same way, and she decided to follow them. A few of the soldiers gave her suspicious glares, but she did not give them attention. Though she wore nothing that identified her as being from the Dominion, she could not help but feel that everyone knew. She was not a fool. Elves were hated by both the rebels and the empire.  
  
Strangely, it was comforting to fall into their marching rhythm. It eased something inside her at the simple familiarity. There were not many travelers on the road, just the occasional supply wagon or farmers hauling their latest harvest.  
  
Dragon Bridge was a very small town. Auerelie had passed through here once before, but she had never stopped to just look. The Four Shields tavern was a small, squat building that smelled of food and damp. At least it was warm. Faida's greeting was civil at best, but she warmed up at the mention of Belrand.  
  
By the time Auerelie had settled into her room, it was well and truly dark. Dragon Bridge did not seem to have too many lights, but she tried not to let that bother her. She was just finishing a questionable looking stew when a sharp, terrified scream pierced the air. The sound sent goosebumps up her arms.  
  
Without a thought, she ran out the door, hand on her sword. Her blood ran cold when she saw that unmistakable sickly red light. She drew her weapon with a white-knuckled grip.

Around the corner, a guard was trying to defend two citizens from a vampire. Auerelie just knew that there had to be more than one. She grabbed the woman, hauling her to her feet. “Get inside.” The man opened his mouth to argue. “Now!” They clung to each other as they ran into the tavern.  
  
The guard pulled his sword out of the vampire, but another came from the shadows, claws tearing into the guard's arm.

Auerelie severed the creature's hand. The guard stumbled back, and she beheaded the vampire in one smooth stroke.  
  
She breathed in and then there was nothing but the battle.

She swung around, meeting the axe of a vampire's thrall. With a swift kick, she sent the nord to the ground; her sword made sure he did not get up.

The guard fended off another thrall. Two more vampires came forward, one nearly taking the head off the guard.  
  
Auerelie tried to defend them both, but the guard was flagging. Blood poured down his injured arm.

One of the vampires managed to disarm her, but he was not expecting her to keep up the fight.

She stepped into his guard, bringing her knee to his stomach then a fist to his jaw. She shot a burst of flame into the vampire's face, sending him screaming.  
  
Pain shot up her side when she took a hit from a mace. The guard was laying on the ground, and she couldn't tell if he was breathing.

With a cry of rage, she tackled the vampire, the mace flying from her hand. Auerelie punched her and continued to do so, over and over. Lightning accompanied each blow.  
  
“Hey. Hey!” Someone grabbed her arm, and she nearly lit them up. A young man pulled her to her feet. He carried an axe with a bloodied blade. She would find out later that he took out the vampire she sent screaming. “She's dead. It's okay.” His expression twisted in concern.

Auerelie did not think about how she must look--wild-eyed and splattered with blood. She breathed heavily, her body still tense to strike.  
  
“It's okay,” he repeated, gently this time. He handed Auerelie her sword, which she took with trembling hands.  
  
“The guard!” She turned around several times. “He's...” She panted.  
  
“He's alright. His fellow guards took him away.” He held out his hands, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible.

Auerelie let the nord lead her back into the tavern. It was the aftermath of losing her patrol all over again.

The young man sat her down, wiping the blood from her face and hands. “My name's Agmaer. What's yours?”  
  
“Auerelie,” she answered absently.  
  
“Auerelie? That's a… lovely name.” Agmaer dropped the rag into a bowl of pink water. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head. Faida showed Agmaer her room, and he eased the high elf onto the bed. She did not remember falling asleep, but when her eyes opened, it was well into the morning.  
  
Her knuckles were bruised and scraped. A dark, ugly bruise had spread across her right side; it caused her to have a slight hitch in her breathing. She changed out of her bloodied clothes before heading into the main room. Faida was there peeling potatoes. The young nord was there as well, eating a late breakfast.

He spotted her first. “Hello.”  
  
Auerelie must have looked a little dazed because he took her to his side of the table, pushing some food toward her. She blinked. “Agmaer?”  
  
“That's right.”  
  
She ate because there was food in front of her, and she drank because Agmaer placed a cup of water in her hand. Auerelie stared at him, thinking he looked so young, but she had a difficult time pinpointing age on humans. He barely had the stubble of a beard, but maybe she couldn't tell because his hair was so light. Agmaer certainly looked the part of a typical nord—fair skin, fair hair, and light eyes. He was not particularly tall but broad of shoulder.

Agmaer cleared his throat loudly, his face redden under her scrutiny.  
  
And he did not know what to think of his new acquaintance. Auerelie was eerily beautiful in the way only elves could be. She reminded him of the summer sun, with her gold skin, lighter gold hair, and even lighter gold eyes. She was tall even for a high elf, and standing, the top of his head only came to her neck.

“One of the guards came by earlier. He said you saved his friend's life. He might not ever hold a sword again, but he'll live.”  
  
“Good.” She straightened in her chair, suddenly aware of everything around her, and it made her feel exposed and fragile.  
  
“Have you... ever fought one of those before?” A pause. “Vampire, I mean.”  
  
Auerelie's jaw tightened. “Yes.”  
  
“Have you heard about the Dawnguard?”  
  
She nodded. “Fort Dawnguard, east of Riften.” She said it as though reminding herself.  
  
Agmaer grinned. “Yeah. I'm going to join them.”

Auerelie suddenly had the vision of Soriss' pale, lifeless eyes. “No.” It came out sharper than she meant.  
  
“But I am. I figured I could help defend my people or be afraid.” He touched the handle of his axe. “And I won't be afraid.”  
  
“But you will be.” She lowered her head, her face turned away.  
  
“I'm still going.”  
  
She huffed out a humorless laugh. “I believe that, nord.” Her hands smoothed over her legs. “I suppose it's not my place to convince you otherwise since we share the same destination.”  
  
“Really?” Agmaer tried not to sound too hopeful. “I don't suppose you'll let me travel with you.”  
  
Auerelie bit the inside of her cheek, stalling. She did not want to see another person fall to vampires. Strangely, she found herself caring very much whether Agmaer lived or died. “I... plan on leaving tomorrow morning.”  
  
“I'll be ready.”

  
  
*******

  
The day dawned bright and cold, and Auerelie wrapped herself in as many layers as she could. She half expected Agmaer not to show up, but she was not surprised when he appeared with his pack. She frowned at his clothing; heavy tunic and breeches would not save him from a blade or an arrow. Her own clothing had enchantments sewn in the seams.

“You'll need to get a decent set of armor the first chance you get.” She eyed him like a soldier for inspection. “Maybe we'll pass one of those Khajiit caravans on the way to Morthal.”  
  
Agmaer fingered the hilt of the axe hanging at his side. “I didn’t have much. Ma and Pa are farmers, like my grandparents and their parents.”  
  
“Your family is nearby?”  
  
He shook his head. “No, I'm from a tiny village called Skagafoss in the Reach, southwest of Markarth.”  
  
“You are a long way from home.”  
  
Agmaer flashed her a smile. “I traveled with merchants, soldiers, and a supply train all the way here.” He double checked the straps on his pack. “I could say you're further away from home than I am.”  
  
“Fair point.” Auerelie motioned him along. She wanted to cover as much ground as they could before nightfall.  
  
Agmaer tried not to bounce on his toes in his excitement. He was doing it. He was going to join the Dawnguard and help protect Skyrim. He glanced at over at Auerelie, not wanting to admit that she's the first high elf he's ever spoken to. He had seen the Thalmor soldiers before but only from a distance. He frowned, reminding himself not to mention that his family still had their little shrine to Talos.  
  
Morthal would be about a three day journey given good weather and safe travel.


	2. Morthal

Agmaer proved to be a more competent traveling companion than Auerelie would have ever thought to give him credit for. He was knowledgeable about the native flora and fauna and knew how to hunt. Such rustic skills were mostly beyond her; she knew how to pitch a tent and char meat.

She somehow felt that she should not have been surprised that Agmaer was quite talkative. Sometimes, he spoke to fill silence, other times bursting with questions about the places that she had traveled and the people she had met. She did not know what to do with such genuine friendliness.  
  
In turn, Agmaer did not know what to make of Auerelie. She was quiet, withdrawn, and seemingly without humor. He wondered if all high elves were like her. He heard the stories, of course, his grandparents having fought in the Great War, and he wanted to ask if she had fought in the war, too.  
  
The weather remained on their side—bright, clear, and bitterly cold. Auerelie huddled in her cloak, feeling every breeze like daggers across her skin. The tips of her fingers were numb, and she could not feel her toes. The cold leeched warmth from her body, leaving her pale and biting the insides of her mouth to keep her teeth from chattering. Agmaer appeared just fine in his woolen farm clothes. She envied him for a brief moment.  
  
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Morthal appeared in the distance. Auerelie looked forward to sleeping in an actual bed. “Hopefully, this little dismal little town has somewhere to buy decent gear.” Her gaze flicked down to Agmaer. “And you'll need some real armor.”  
  
Agmaer sighed, his breath forming a great cloud. “Maybe I should do all the talking. Just, you know, might make things easier.” He picked at the haft of his axe.  
  
“Less likely to get us run off by the locals, you mean.”  
  
“Ah, well, that caravan we passed might have traded with us, if you know...” He waved his hands as if trying to encompass the experience of nearly getting killed by his fellow nords.  
  
Auerelie's expression tightened. “I suppose.” The tilt of her head made her seem that much taller.  
  
“Not that there's anything wrong with you... just... _Divines_ , stop me.”  
  
“Then be silent.” Agmaer shut his mouth with an audible click.  
  
A patrolling guard was the first person they passed into Morthal, and his hand immediately went to the mace hanging at his side. “We're watching you, elf.” Agmaer gently took Auerelie's elbow, guiding her away. He was only somewhat surprised that she allowed it.  
  
Moorside Inn was just as shabby and waterlogged as the rest of the town looked. Auerelie was taken aback to learn that not only did the nords consider Morthal a city, but it was the capital of Hjaalmarch.  
  
The innkeeper, Jonna, eyed the two of them speculatively. “What can I get for you?”  
  
Agmaer stepped up before Auerelie could answer. “Two rooms for a night and meals.” Neither one of them had a great deal of gold, but they decided early on it was better to pool resources. Agmaer handled the transaction, and Auerelie provided the coin.  
  
The inn was empty, and Agmaer figured the town did not see much business. Breakfast was cold meats, cheese, and bread, but at least the drinks were warm. Auerelie watched as couple townspeople wandered in, stamping off the snow. Agmaer seemed more interested in looking around while Auerelie kept her head down.  
  
They set out to see what there was to see in Morthal, and to Auerelie's unsurprise, it was not much. There was not even a general store. Agmaer spoke more with the locals, and she watched him at ease, hands waving as he spoke. She left Agmaer to visit the alchemist, and she found Lami not completely inept at her chosen trade.  
  
Agmaer could not help but hear the whispers about the burned out house sitting at the edge of the town. The stories varied about how the fire started, but the common thread was that Hroggar mysteriously survived while his wife and daughter did not. Agmaer did not want to think that anyone was capable of such a villainous act.

  
  
*******

  
Auerelie opened the inn door to someone playing the lute incredibly out of tune. An orc stood in the far corner, eyes closed, and fingerings plucking harshly at strings. As though sensing her, the orc watched as she walked past, and began to sing, “Golden lady of the Golden Isle, personification of summer--”  
  
“Silence, goblin-ken.” She sat with her back to the bard and ignored Agmaer's cringe at the slur.  
  
“Ah, Auerelie, I think I got us a job. It's from the Jarl.” He fidgeted under her gaze. “Surely, you've seen what's left of the house that burned down. Most folk think it wasn't an accident, but none of the townspeople will go near it. The Jarl wants us to investigate, and she said we would get paid no matter if it was an accident or something more.”  
  
“Well, what do you know about it?” Auerelie could not decide whether or not she was annoyed by the presumption that they would be handling this job.  
  
“Not... a lot to be honest. Hroggar says that his wife accidentally started the fire, but no one really believes that since his wife and daughter burned to death and he did not. Also, he moved in with a lover the next day. A woman named Alva.”  
  
“What about Alva?”  
  
He shook his head. “No one really knows much about her. Hasn't made any friends, but Hroggar is devoted to her.”  
  
“That is... odd.” She still sounded reluctant. “I thought you nords were all about bonds of kith and kin.”  
  
Agmaer bristled. “We are.”  
  
Auerelie straightened in her chair. “I... meant no offense.”  
  
“Listen, it's not right. Something's not right about this.” He sighed. “It just... I feel...”  
  
“We'll look into it.”

  
  
*******

  
Auerelie crept out of the inn once Agmaer and Jonna retired for the night. Stealth was not a talent of hers, but it was easy enough to stick to the shadows outside the blaze of the guards' torches. She silently cursed the wind coming off the water.  
  
Only the bare bones of the house remained, and already it was succumbing to the elements. Ash flaked off the wood and stirred in the breeze. The steps creaked under her weight but held. The hearth was mostly intact and strangely enough, a child's bed. Auerelie ran her fingers over the splintered bed frame, her hand coming away black.

“Hello.” Auerelie whirled at the sound of the voice, her eyes darting wildly before settling on a little girl.  
  
“I'm Helgi.” The air around her rippled, and under the light of the moon, she was completely transparent. Auerelie's eyes widen. “What's your name?”  
  
Slowly, Auerelie lowered herself on one knee. She could feel the pull of otherworldly magic. “I am Auerelie. Is this your house?”  
  
“Yes! Me and mama and papa lived here. But they're gone now.” She hugged herself tightly. “It was so scary. It was really hot, and I couldn't see. I tried to hide then it got really cold. And now I'm here.”  
  
“I... am... sorry that happened to you, little one.” Auerelie almost reached out to touch her. “Do you remember how the fire started?”  
  
“Oh! I'll tell you, but I wanna play a game first. You have to find me, ok.” Before Auerelie could say anything, Helgi vanished.  
  
“What in Oblivion happened here?”

  
  
*******

  
The sun had barely started to rise before Auerelie practically upended Agmaer from his bed. He went down in a tangle of blankets and flailing limbs.

“Come. We have work to do.”  
  
“Auerelie?” He looked up at her, bleary-eyed and confused. “What?”  
  
“You were right. Something terrible is going on here.” She absently tugged on the bright gold braid hanging over her left shoulder. “I saw it. I saw the little girl that died in the fire. Her name was Helgi.”  
  
“You saw her?” Agmaer tried to smooth down a stubborn patch of hair that wanted to stick out. “As in you saw her body?”  
  
“No. I met her ghost. I went to the house last night, and she was there. But... she wants me to find her.”  
  
Agmaer slowly picked himself up from the floor. “How can you find her when she's, you know, dead?”  
  
Auerelie did not answer at first, her fingers moving now to the hilt of her sword. “We're going to split up for now. I'm going to try and find Helgi. You're going to find out everything you can about Alva. I just get the feeling that she's in this somehow.”  
  
“What about Hroggar?”  
  
Auerelie snorted. “What about him? He's either complicit or a hapless idiot.”  
  
“Breakfast first?”  
  
She nodded, fighting the smile threatening the corners of her mouth.

  
  
*******

  
Agmaer did not know the first thing about looking inconspicuous. He supposed not being an elf over six-feet-tall was a good enough start. He people-watched for a while. Most of the residents were already up and starting their day. A couple of the guards nodded in his direction as they passed. He walked the pier, his shoulders hunched against the breath-stealing wind.  
  
He knew which house was Alva's, and he made sure to keep it in sight no matter where he stood. There were only a handful of guards in Morthal and soon the rotation was going to change. Agmaer ducked around fishmongers and sailors, circling around the back of the  guardhouse and Alva's house. There was decent cover between this house and the neighboring one, but he was not entirely sure that he would not get caught.  
  
Agmaer silently cursed Auerelie then began to wonder when ghost-hunting became the more appealing option. Hroggar left early enough, but waiting out Alva became the challenge. Leaning against the side of the house, Agmaer watched the small fishing boats drift in and out of the harbor. Morthal was such a quiet place, and Agmaer had the stray thought of settling down one day.  
  
A couple of fishmongers started stacking barrels, and it conveniently provided enough cover to block the front of Alva's home from view. Agmaer moved quietly and quickly as possible, but he could not shake the apprehension of getting caught. The door was locked but gave way under the pressure of a pick and some prayer.  
  
Agmaer closed the door behind him with a soft click, his eyes sweeping quickly over the worn interior. The house was poorly maintained, and he wondered why Hroggar would even want to live here. Most everything was covered in a fine layer of dust, even the bed. Combined with the stone-cold hearth, Agmaer felt his unease grow. He poked around for a few minutes until he found a door behind a sagging bookshelf.  
  
Cautiously, Agmaer took the cramped stairs down to the basement and with each step felt an unnatural cold settle in his bones. The room was small, and to Agmaer's shock, the only thing of note was a coffin. He approached with his weapon drawn, and before he could even touch the lid, it slid to the side and onto the floor.  
  
Alva looked as surprised to see Agmaer as he was to see her. She lunged for him, fangs and claws bared. Agmaer dodged then swung around with his axe.

Alva spun backward, a thin ribbon of blood trickling down her arm. She hissed loudly then jumped at him once more.

Agmaer tried to put as much strength behind his swing as he could, but Alva met his blade with a spear of ice, which shattered.  
  
Agmaer scrambled back, putting the coffin between them. Alva's eyes narrowed, her expression almost thoughtful. The air around her shimmered, and she beckoned him forward. Agmaer felt the spell hook into his mind, and the world slowly went out of focus.

Alva was much closer the next time he opened his eyes. “Come now,” she whispered, her mouth stretched into a smile.  
  
Alva's hand slid into Agmaer's hair, fingering the pale blond locks. “It's alright, sweet thing.” She pulled him in, her other arm snaking around his waist. She pressed her lips to his cheek then to the line of his jaw before placing an open-mouthed kiss against the side of his neck.

The shock of the bite wrenched Agmaer back into the present moment. Alva staggered backward, her mouth wet with blood and his arms out in front of him.  
  
There was a moment of stillness before Agmaer rushed the vampire, an axe in one hand a dagger in the other. Alva danced around him, always managing to be just out of reach.

She shot another bolt of ice at Agmaer, and he let it splinter on the wall behind him. He breathed in deeply, trying to keep his mind off of the blood spreading across his shirt.

Alva vaulted over the coffin. Agmaer tried to throw off Alva's blow, but her claws sunk deep into his arm. He cried out.  
  
“You're mine, boy!” She pressed onward, reaching for his throat.

Agmaer managed to push her back just far enough to bury his dagger in her stomach. Alva gritted her teeth, still trying to overpower Agmaer in her blood-haze. He dragged the blade across Alva's abdomen, but it was difficult to maintain a hold with the blood pouring over his hand.  
  
Alva's grip weakened, and Agmaer freed his other arm to lodge the axe in her neck. He pulled both blades free, his arms shaking. Alva made a pained, whistling noise, one hand at her throat and the other across her stomach. She dropped to her knees.

It took two swings, but Agmaer beheaded the vampire. He watched with detached horror as her head hit the stone floor with a wet thud, blood trailing in its wake.  
  
Agmaer dropped his weapons, exhausted and afraid. He did not want to die here. The vampire threat was spreading, and underneath the fear, he still wanted to fight. He gripped the side of his neck, feeling the blood still oozing from the bite wound. He had the hysterical thought of becoming a vampire himself. Using the edge of the coffin, he struggled to his feet. He had to find Auerelie. She would know what to do.

  
  
*******

  
The world returned slowly. First there was the sound of voices, then the touch of fingers against his forehead, and then the burn of liquid in his throat. He must have made some sort of sound, because there was a pair of hands gently pushing him back against the bed. He tried to speak then there were fingers against his lips. He tried to open his eyes but saw only a flash of gold. He slept but did not dream.  
  
“...incompetent...”  
  
“...died...wound...Alva...”  
  
“...diseased...”  
  
Agmaer drew in a deep, pained breath. All conversation stopped. Once he opened his eyes, Auerelie was there, sitting on the edge of the bed. His mouth opened and closed several times, but his throat stuck. Auerelie propped him up just enough to let him drink some water.

“Welcome back.” She sounded tired.  
  
“What... what...”

Auerelie shushed him.  
  
“The guards found you unconscious on Alva's porch. You were... hurt very badly. They found Alva's body of course, and this,” she held up a small red book, “It's Alva's journal. Congratulations, you uncovered a plot to turn the whole town into vampire thralls.”  
  
What little color Agmaer had drained from his face. He reached up to touch his neck, suddenly panicked. “You're fine. We already gave you the cure. Healing magic did the rest, but I was told to tell you to rest for a couple of days.”  
  
“Hroggar?” Agmaer wiggled his way to sitting up completely.  
  
“Jail. He was Alva's thrall. And like I said, a hapless idiot.” Auerelie frowned deeply. “Apparently, the guard never had the slightest clue that vampires have been living in their midst for over a year. The lead with Helgi didn’t give me much, just another grave.”  
  
“How long have I been out?”  
  
“Not quite a full day. I spoke to the Jarl about Alva's journal. Apparently, she knows of the vampire that sent Alva here. His name is Movarth. The town is riled up, but I don't think that they could handle an ancient vampire lord and his minions.”  
  
Agmaer grimaced as he tried to find a comfortable position. “What are we doing to do?”  
  
“ _You_ are going to stay here. _I'm_ going to pick a few well trained guards and go clear out Movarth's lair.”  
  
“Auerelie, you can't just leave me here. I wanna fight. I want--”  
  
She ground her teeth. “I don't care what you want. You almost died you stupid nord. You're not going anywhere.”  
  
Agmaer chewed his lower lip, and he had to stop himself from picking at the bandages wound around his arm. “What if you don't come back?”  
  
Auerelie snorted. “Then you keep going to Fort Dawnguard.” She heard him breathe in deep for another protest. “I'm just one small life.”  
  
“For Gods’ sake, elf.” Agmaer released a controlled breath.  
  
“Stop moving.”  
  
“Now, _you're_ being stupid.”  
  
“And of the two of us, I have actual martial training.”  
  
“Just, please, wait. I don't want you to go alone.” He did not want to go to Fort Dawnguard alone either.  
  
Auerelie studied him, her gold eyes narrowed. “Two days. There's planning to get through anyway. If you're ready by then, you can fight.” Agmaer replied with a tired smile. “Now, rest. I've had enough of stubborn nords for today.”


	3. Laid to Rest

Agmaer was almost certain that Auerelie was going to try and stop him from joining the raid. Something about the tight, sharp jut of her jaw brought to mind his grandmother’s look of disapproval. His arm was still a little sore, and the wounds had faded into dark pink lines.

He watched the high elf go over a map with four of Morthal’s guards: Bronrod, Storn, Ormvard, and Emfrid. It was almost comical to see how far she towered over them. Agmaer could see how her presence was resented by his countrymen. It was by the Jarl’s order that they were taking orders from Auerelie, and it was obvious that she knew this. Agmaer wished she would at least try to be amiable, but she did not have a face for smiling.

Movarth’s lair was maybe an hour’s walk from Morthal, and Auerelie was itching to go while the day was still young. She did not know what they would find there, and she did not want to be caught out at night. She urged everyone to carry a couple of potions to cure disease.

Agmaer double checked his weapons then the straps of his armor--fine made leather chosen by Auerelie.

Bronrod, tapped his finger against the map several times, his brows screwed up. “Elf, we don’t know how many of those blood sucking bastards are actually in there.”

Auerelie sighed, “No, we don’t. There’s no way to scout that out which is why we’ll be armed to the teeth.

Emfrid snorted loudly. “Don’t suppose you got a real plan, elf.” She checked the straps of her shield. “We ain’t no cowards, but throwing our lives away won’t help.”

“Then don’t come,  _ nord _ .” Auerelie breathed in deeply. “I’m leaving in an hour with or without you.”

 

*******

 

The entrance to the cave was unnaturally quiet, and the sound of the guards’ armor seemed especially loud. Auerelie conjured a ball of magelight just bright enough to see where her feet were going. Agmaer brought up the rear of the group.

The ground sloped gently downward, the path growing wider. Splintered planks of wood cut off sharp drops into the darkness below. Auerelie could hear the nords breathing behind her, and it felt as though the sounds echoed. The path suddenly veered left and further down. She wondered if they were being watched. She wondered what kind of nightmares would greet her in the dark.

The path widened into a platform overlooking a deep pit. She pressed herself to the wall as tightly as possible, and thankfully the others followed suit. There were lines of torches flicking over what looked like a dining area. Seated at the long table were several figures speaking in low voices. Auerelie realized that the vampires couldn’t see her, but the element of surprise would still be a difficult tactic to pull off.

Ormvard and Storn slid forward as quietly as possible drawing bows.

Storn’s eyes flicked to Auerelie then back to the room. He willed himself to steady his hands.

There was a moment of complete stillness then Auerelie extinguished the magelight.

Two arrows whizzed through the air, one catching a vampire in the neck and the other through the eye of one of the vampire’s thralls.

Emfrid jumped down first, her shield held to block an incoming spear of ice. Auerelie drew elven made swords and followed.

Undercover, Ormvard fire another arrow, hitting a thrall in the shoulder.

There was moment of bewilderment then sudden motion. Two vampires retreated into the shadows, leaving their thralls to occupy the group. Emfrid bashed an orc in the face with her shield.

The returning blow from the orc’s mace shook her arm. Emfrid blocked an overhead swing, using the opening to run the orc through the stomach.

Agmaer locked his blades with a small but very fast wood elf.

Bronrod found himself engaged by two of his own countrymen made thralls. It made him heartsore. His greatsword swung with fluid ease. A sudden bolt of electricity struck Bronrod from behind, his muscles seizing.

Emfrid’s shield redirected a killing blow.

One of the vampires separated seamlessly from the darkness, catching Storn off guard. He pushed back, but the creature refused to budge. Storn freed one hand just long enough to draw his dagger. The vampire was quicker, her hand wrapping around his throat.

Agmaer pulled his axe from the neck of a thrall and threw it at the vampire. The blade sunk in her back, and Storn rammed his blade through the vampire’s chest.

An imperial vampire fought with fury, baring bloody teeth. Storn drew another dagger, and moved to put as much space between them as possible. Pools of blood formed at the vampire’s feet, but he did not seem to notice. Hands burning with ice, the vampire rushed at Storn.

Storn managed to cut a deep gash up one of the vampire’s arms, but the other clawed hand found purchase on his shoulder. Storn couldn’t feel the wound for the cold winding down his arm. He went in for the killing blow, but a second vampire got there first.

Blood spurted from the sudden gaping wound across Storn’s throat.

Auerelie impaled Storn’s killer on one sword and used the other to behead the creature. Agmaer finished off the injured vampire, and he was certain to take back his axe.

Ormvard drew an orichalcum tipped arrow and put it through the chest of a thrall.

Bronrod pulled his blade from one of the nord thralls. He was not quick enough to avoid the shield bash from the remaining thrall. He stumbled but regained his footing quickly. He lunged forward, his great blade leaving a deep gouge in his opponent's shield. The thrall released the damaged shield.

Bronrod used his short sword to block an incoming blow. He elbowed the thrall in the face then jammed his sword through the man’s chest. As he tried to wrench his blade free, the thrall made one final attack.

The thrall was now dead on the ground, but Bronrod choked out a shocked noise at the fact that his left arm now ended several inches above the wrist.

It was Emfrid that got to Bronrod first. She tore strips of cloth from her uniform to bind the stump.

Auerelie rushed over to them, her swords dripping blood. “Shit!” The wound was rapidly bleeding through the fabric. “Emfrid, go. He’s going into shock.”

“There’s still Movarth to deal with. He ran.”

“Take Bronrod now.” Auerelie looked toward the tunnel the master vampire disappeared into. “I still have Ormvard and Agmaer.” She did not wait for a response as she motioned the other two forward.

Movarth already knew they were coming, so Auerelie did not bother with stealth as she summoned a few orbs of light.

Agmaer ran into the back of Auerelie when she stopped abruptly. She pointed at a shimmering circle on the ground. “Ice rune.” Dispelling the rune cost them time, and Auerelie was almost certain Movarth escaped.

They rounded a bend, and Auerelie managed to put up a ward just before an explosion of fire engulfed them. “Ormvard, we’ll need cover fire the very second I drop this spell.” Firestorm depleted magicka rapidly but so did wards. The flames died off suddenly, leaving scorch marks radiating blistering heat.

Ormvard fired arrow after arrow as Auerelie and Agmaer advanced. Movarth himself appeared when an arrow struck him in the shoulder.

The ancient dark elf pulled the arrow free with a hateful expression. “You challenge me? You are  _ prey _ . Sheep.” He shot off a bolt of lightning that Auerelie could not escape.

Cracking electricity danced across her armor. She used one of her swords to force herself upright. The pain nearly made her bite her tongue in half.

Agmaer took the seconds reprieve between spells to fling one of his axes. The blade struck Movarth’s injured shoulder, dark blood spreading rapidly across his robes.

Ormvard drew her single ebony arrow.

Auerelie gritted her teeth against the pain and the seizing began to subside. Movarth’s hands glowed with familiar red light. She remembered that light in the cold darkness, killing her comrades, burning across her face.

The spell shot forth, and Auerelie shouldered Agmaer aside, and once again the red sunk into her, draining her life.

Agmaer recovered quickly. He dodged a spear of ice, and ducked under under a gout of flame. Movarth was so focused on Agmaer that he looked comically shocked when an ebony arrow pierced his right eye.

Before the screaming could begin, Agmaer buried his axe in Movarth’s neck. And not taking chances, Agmaer practically sawed the vampire’s head from his shoulders.

“Is it over?” Ormvard drew in a shuddering breath. Agmaer turned to her, blood dripping down his arms and along his blade.

“We need to get out of here.” Agmaer retrieved his fallen axe before going to Auerelie’s side. He hear see her breathing even if those breaths were ragged. “Hey,” his voice was soft as he kneeled beside her. He pushed the high elf into a sitting position, letting her back rest against the wall. “Auerelie?”

She did not answer, and even in the gloom, the two nords could see how sickly and weak she looked. Ormvard frowned. “We could leave her then come back with help.”

“No!” Agmaer cleared his throat. “No, we’re not… I’m not leaving her. If you want to go on ahead, fine.” They glared at each other for a moment before Ormvard walked away.

“You should leave me here.” Auerelie’s voice was barely more than airy gasps. “Go.”

Agmaer brushed her gold hair back from her face. “Not leaving. Ormvard can find her own way. Bronrod and Emfrid should have made it back to Morthal by now. Can you stand?”

Auerelie shook her head. She started shaking so badly that Agmaer was afraid that she was going into some sort of shock.

“Auerelie… I don’t think I can carry you.” He paced back and forth for a few moments. “Wait! That main chamber. There were some old farm carts. I could wheel you out of here.” He did not even wait for Auerelie’s inevitable protests before running off.

Auerelie did not know how much time passed. She did not know even realize that she had closed her eyes until Agmaer appeared. He did indeed have a cart, which was, of course, covered in blood stains. “I know it’s small, so you’ll kinda have to curl up.”

She scowled. “You have a better chance of finding an Elder Scroll than you have to get me in that thing.” Auerelie clung stubbornly to her pride.

“Gods above! Seriously Auerelie?” Agmaer stared at her in disbelief. “You’d rather suffer here than accept my help?”

She tried to use the wall to push herself up, but her muscles locked up painfully before she could barely begin to move. Breathing harshly through her teeth, she tried again only to fall once more. Agmaer stopped her with his hands on her shoulders.

“I don’t need your help, human.” She tried to push him away. “I don’t want it.” Her anger did not quite cover up her fear. Agmaer pulled her into his arms. The elf twisted and writhed, but she could not break free. She swore at him in three languages, and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Throughout her fits, Agmaer just held onto her, his embrace comforting enough to disconcert her. Eventually, she spent what little energy she had, and her body just sagged against his.

Agmaer did not say anything as he manhandled her onto the cart. He was right, she had to hug her knees to her chest to keep from falling off. She closed her eyes, and dozed. The rocking of the cart was oddly soothing. Agmaer hummed softly as he pushed on, carefully navigating sharp turns and winding tunnels.

 

*******

 

Night had fallen, and the both of them took in deep lungfuls of fresh air. Secunda hung bright in the sky, while Masser peeked through the clouds as a crimson sliver. Agmaer continued on after a short break. Auerelie remained silent.

Morthal was dark and shrouded in fog. There were pinpricks of light, probably the guards’ torches. Agmaer wheeled the cart around to the side of the inn. “Alright. We just have to get inside.” He held onto Auerelie tightly, stumbling under her weight. He pulled her arm across his shoulders, trying to walk as tall as possible. Nothing could really compensate for the fact that Auerelie was a head taller than him with very long legs.

By the time they made it into Moorside Inn, Auerelie was ready to collapse, and Agmaer was drenched in sweat. It was all he could do to get her into her room and onto the bed. He sank onto the floor, his back resting against the bed. “We made it.”

 

*******

 

Auerelie woke up alone. Her body ached, and she could feel the residual magicka from healing spells. Before she could drift back to sleep, Agmaer appeared with food. “You’re awake. Good. I was starting to worry.” He had obviously bathed, wearing the woolen tunic and trousers favored by the natives.

Auerelie pushed herself upright on her own this time. She had to swallow several times before she could speak. “What happened?”

“Movarth is dead. Storn is dead, too. Bronrod lost his hand, but he’ll live. Emfrid and Ormvard are fine. I spoke to the Jarl at first light. She paid us well. We’ll be able to buy gear and more supplies before heading off.” He handed her a bowl with broth and a hunk of bread. “When you’re ready, of course.”

Auerelie stared down at the food, her fingers curled too tightly around the bowl. “Everyone has been checked?”  _ Sanguinare Vampiris _ was supposedly incurable if left untreated.

Agmaer nodded. “That spell Movarth used--”

“It drains life-force.” Auerelie started to turn white. She refused to look at Agmaer, instead watching the bread slowly absorb the broth in her bowl.

“You--”

“ _ Yes _ , I’ve seen it before.  _ Yes _ , it hurts.  _ Yes _ , it left these scars.”

Agmaer touched her arm only to have her flinch away from him. “I was only going to ask how you are feeling.” He took a step back. “Is… is that why you want to join the Dawnguard?”

“Yes.” She looked up at him, her eyes shiny. “They were all killed because I wasn’t enough.”

“Who?”

“My patrol. How… how do you prepare for something like that? I was a soldier. I have seen war. I should have been better.” Her chest heaved.

“You know that’s not your fault, right? You fought until it nearly killed you.”

“Then I should have died with them! They were my brothers-in-arms. I was their Sergeant. Two decorated commanders did not survive either. Who am I?”

“Maybe the Gods have their reasons. Maybe you were meant for the Dawnguard. Maybe we were meant to meet.”

“Then the Gods are cruel.” Her expression crumpled. “You didn’t see them lying in the snow.”

His voice was soft. “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry you had to.”

There was a long moment of silence. Auerelie decided to taste the soggy bread, anything to stop her insides from twisting. She glanced at Agmaer. “Humans speak so plainly. It is… oddly comforting.”

“So, you’re no longer going to give me that death glare?”

“I don’t have a ‘death glare’.”

“You do. I see it when you think I’m being a stubborn, simple-minded human.”

Auerelie huffed loudly before taking another bite of her admittedly not horrible food.

“Actually, it reminds me of my granny. That’s the look right there.” He flashed her a grin. “You said you were a soldier. Did you fight in the Great War?”

“No, I was still a child when the war ended. I fought in skirmishes along the border of Hammerfell.”

“You still look really young. Elves are strange like that.”

“I’m forty-one.”

“Almost twice my age.”

“If you start with the old jokes, I will let the next vampire eat you.”

Agmaer smiled. “I’m not too worried. We’re friends now.”

 

*******

 

Three days passed before Auerelie felt well enough to leave Morthal. Agmaer took care of their supplies, gear, and double-checked all their maps. She wanted to be angry at him, but every time he popped up with his earnest smile, she deflated. He also never brought up her meltdown in Movarth’s lair. She did not know what to make of that.

Surprisingly, Emfrid stopped by the inn before they could leave. She looked much smaller without her armor, and Auerelie could admit that Emfrid’s hair was a pleasing shade of red. She bought them a round of mead before taking a seat.

“We never did thank you. Either of you. Thought I would set that right.” Emfrid looked each of them in the eye. “You saved Morthal, and that makes you both alright in my book. You ever need anything this side of Hjaalmarch, just call.” Agmaer gave Emfrid a beaming smile, and Auerelie just nodded politely.

Once the guardswoman was gone, Auerelie pulled out a highly detailed map that she took from the Thalmor Embassy. “Dawnstar. Less than two days worth of travel with good weather. Then it’s a long, long way to Windhelm.”


	4. The City of Kings

Auerelie looked at Agmaer out of the corner of her eye and hated him. He wore only a single, heavy cloak over his armor. She wore  _ layers _ , and with every step she felt closer and closer to an early, icy grave. She just sighed heavily, and watched her breath plume before her face.

Agmaer tugged sharply on her arm, bring her to a sudden stop. His eyes were scanning the barren trees, obviously looking for something. Before Auerelie could ask, an arrow sailed by her head, embedding in a tree with a loud  _ thunk _ .

Three nords appeared, and they wore the blue armor of Ulfric’s Stormcloaks. There had to be a camp nearby. The tallest of the three held them at arrow point. Auerelie saw that her muscles did not strain in the slightest holding that bow aloft and ready. The other two soldiers approached, their faces grim.

“Hold. This is Stormcloak territory.” The leader, a grizzled man with silver in his hair, rested his arm on the hilt of his sword as though completely at ease. “You there,” he gestured to Agmaer, “You’re a son of Skyrim. You have no business keeping company with the likes of her.”

Auerelie stiffened, and under her cloak, her fingers curled around the pommel of a dagger. Subtly, Agmaer inched closer to her. “She’s a dear friend. We’re traveling east to Riften.”

“You’re a long way off, boy.” The soldier leaned forward as though to get a better look at them. “Especially with a damned Thalmor on your heels.”

“She’s  _ not _ Thalmor.” Agmaer’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “We’re not causing any trouble. Let us pass.”

He snorted. “They’re all Thalmor. Even if she is a good fuck, she can’t be worth the trouble.”

Auerelie had to bite the inside of her mouth. She lowered her eyes, but she kept a white-knuckled grip on her dagger.

“We’re just a couple of hunters passing through.”

The soldier signalled for his comrades to stand down. “Just remember, any true son of Skyrim should go to Windhelm and join Jarl Ulfric. And I’d drop this one in the Sea of Ghosts along the way.”

Auerelie did not relax until the Stormcloaks left, and she could not longer see their tracks in the snow. She was angry, but she understood why they hated her. She knew why she hated them. And Agmaer had been so quick to jump to her defense. It made something heavy and cold settle in her chest. Agmaer did not know, and she did not want to tell him. Was she technically still considered part of the Dominion even she had been discharged from the army? She supposed that it did not matter; she left that life behind.

Agmaer looked up at her. “Don’t listen to them. They’re picking fights when there are real problems that need solving.”

The snow crunched loudly under their boots. “I’m surprised to hear that. I thought all nords were for independence.”

He shrugged. “There was a war, a terrible one, and it didn’t solve anything. How would another war fix it?”

“You make it sound so simple.” Auerelie tucked an errant lock of hair behind a pointed ear.

“My grandparents fought in the Great War. My pa fought in the rebellion until he was injured. I grew up listening to their stories. Why can’t it be that simple?”

Auerelie let out an amused huff. “There is so much history and nuance that you are glossing over, including the very long and bitter history between nords and elves.”

He shrugged once more. “Maybe, you’re making it too complicated.” He pointed out the vague outline of Dawnstar in the distance. “Guess it doesn’t really matter. We’re fighting vampires.” Auerelie let the conversation lie there.

 

*******

 

Dawnstar was not quite as depressing looking as Morthal. It was at least larger, though Auerelie would never call it a city. Again, a collection of old, damp buildings was the capital of one of Skyrim’s holds. The Pale was colder, and it made the wind coming off the sea that much worse. Auerelie did not understand how anyone could live like this.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon when they knocked the snow from their boots before entering Windpeak Inn. The blast of heat from the roaring fires took their breath away. Auerelie shivered violently at the contrast. She decided to stake out a table as close to the fire as possible. Agmaer went to talk to the innkeeper about food and lodging.

Thoring did not seem particularly pleased to have a high elf under his roof, but gold was gold.

“Just got it for the one night.” Agmaer plopped down next to Auerelie. “Figured the sooner we get on the road, the better.”

She nodded. “I saw a ferry at the docks. I wonder if we could sail to Windhelm.”

Agmaer looked up as Karita, the innkeeper’s daughter, started to lay out their dinner. Auerelie noted that every dish had meat in it, even the bread. With a sigh, she filled her plate.

“I don’t know. I’ve heard the Sea of Ghosts is really dangerous.”

Auerelie snorted. “Hunting vampires is really dangerous.”

“Never been on a boat before.”

“Not the worst way to travel.” Karita interrupted them by refilling Agmaer’s mug. She smiled at Agmaer, and it was enough to make him blush all the way to his ears. Auerelie ignored the both of them.

Once it appeared that Agmaer was not going to be able to contribute anything useful to their conversation, she left the nords to their awkward flirting. She would look into travel options tomorrow. Now that she had thawed out, she just wanted to sleep.

 

*******

 

Auerelie was up and ready before Agmaer, which was unusual. Thoring was not helpful, so she left him for the docks. Fresh snow covered the town, and she wondered how much more frozen water could fall from the sky. She brought the hood of her cloak up over her head in a futile effort to block some of the wind.

Harlaug was a grump of a nord, but he did not try to fleece Auerelie out of any extra coin. His little boat would shave weeks off of their journey to Fort Dawnguard. They would go straight to Windhelm then south.

Feeling pretty pleased with herself, Auerelie took a quick walk through town to see if there was anything else useful. She felt the eyes of everyone that passed her, but she paid them no mind. Frida was a competent apothecary, and Rustleif was kind enough to let her sharpen her blades.

Agmaer was standing just outside the inn when she doubled back around. He waved at her, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. She told him about Harlaug and the boat, and Agmaer looked apprehensive at actual sea travel. He pointed out that they were not in a hurry, per se. Auerelie looked so unamused that he sank down into his cloak.

 

*******

 

Sea travel did not agree with Agmaer. Auerelie almost felt bad. Harlaug just thumped Agmaer on his back and told him the seasickness would pass.

It did not.

Windhelm, while an actual city, was completely coated in ice. Auerelie stood on the docks, her back to the water. Several argonians moved back and forth, mostly loading and unloading cargo. She listened as they hissed and clicked at each other in Jel.

Agmaer looked a lot less green now that he was on solid land. He stared up at the walls of Windhelm, eyes widening. “The City of Kings,” he whispered in awe. He shot Auerelie a smile then made his way toward the gates.

Auerelie found the city impressive in only that it has stood for over four thousand years. The city was probably the oldest human-made structure in Tamriel. Otherwise, she found Windhelm incredibly gray, and it made her hurt for Shimmerene. She wondered what Agmaer would think of her homeland. She wanted to know what he would do in a land with no winter.

 

*******

 

Windhelm’s guards looked particularly dour, each of them straight-backed and grim-faced. They eyed her speculatively, hands on their swords. Even Agmaer noticed the unkind eyes on his companion. He walked closer to Auerelie, occasionally jostling her arm. He expected her to move away or give him that death glare she claimed she did not have. She stayed.

One moment, Auerelie was trying to ask Agmaer about rooms for the night, the next he was stalking toward a pair of nords obviously harassing a dunmer woman. She sighed heavily and went after him.

“You’re going to stand up for this ash-born scum? She’s an Imperial spy just like the rest of those gray-skins.” The nord was gearing up for another drunken tirade when Auerelie loomed over him.

Agmaer shoved the other nord back.

“Rolff, this milk-drinker thinks he can bully us in our own city.”

Agmaer sighed heavily. “Just… leave her alone. She ain’t done nothing.”

Rolff moved to draw his blade, but Auerelie’s crushing grip on his arm made him reconsider. “Here’s another one, Angrenor.” He slurred, “They’re everywhere.” Rolff jerked his arm free, nearly slipping on a patch of ice. “Back off, knife-ear!”

Auerelie moved around Rolff, standing in front of the woman with Agmaer. Angrenor stared them down, clearly trying to decide if a fight was worth it. After a moment, he spat at their feet then dragged Rolff off with him.

Auerelie watched the men walk away, while Agmaer turned his attention to the wary elf behind him.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Why did you do that?”

Agmaer frowned. “They were bothering you, saying all kinds of nasty things.” He looked unsure all of a sudden. “Ah, um, my name is Agmaer, and that’s my friend, Auerelie.”

The dark elf looked between the two of them, bewildered. “I’m Suvaris Atheron.” She picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. “I’m guessing you don’t hate elves.”

“No, of course not.” Agmaer glanced at Auerelie as if she were going to save him from the conversation. “I just wanted to… help. I didn’t make things worse, did I?”

A faint smiled touched the corners of her mouth. “No worse than they already are.” Suvaris picked up a basket of vegetables that had fallen at her feet. Rolff and Angrenor had ambushed her on her way from the market. “If you need anything for your travels, Sadri at Sadri’s Used Wares will give you a good deal. I’ll tell him I sent you.”

Agmaer beamed. “Thanks! We’ll definitely check it out.”

 

*******

 

The marketplace was busy, and Auerelie hated every second she spent crush up against humans while she tried to navigate the maze of stalls. She had lost Agmaer almost immediately, and she wondered if he did that on purpose.

Reprieve came in the form an altmer, the first she had seen since leaving Solitude. Niranye was quick-witted, shrewd, and a fellow migrant. They spoke in Altmeris, voices pitched low and lyrical. Auerelie was reminded of how much she missed her people and her home, but the feeling was bittersweet.

Niranye was a font of useful information and gossip. She knew most of the city’s residents, if not personally, then at least by reputation. This was the first time Auerelie had heard of the killer simply known as ‘The Butcher’. Two women had already been murdered, and the guards had no leads. Not that either of them expected much from nords.

Agmaer eventually found them. He loitered next to Niranye’s stall, occasionally glancing at them. Niranye bit back a caustic remark once she found out that he was Auerelie’s ‘simple nord friend’. Agmaer appeared content to let them be.

He had overheard the guards talking about the murders, and he wondered how angry Auerelie would be if they stayed and investigated. They solved the murders in Morthal, why not here in Windhelm. Plus, he was worried that vampires were behind the killings.

Agmaer watched a very beautiful dark elf woman walk the produce stands. She caught his gaze twice, and each time, he dropped his head with ruddy cheeks. Her name was Luaffyn, and she was the bard at Candlehearth Hall. With each vendor she visited, she entreated them to stop by the inn and listen to her play the lute and sing.

Auerelie waved her hand in front of Agmaer’s face. She had called his name half a dozen times with no response. He looked up at her and nearly withered under her gaze. “Niranye has agreed to let us stay at her house for the night.” Her gaze flicked from Agmaer to Luaffyn several times. “I’m ready to get out of the cold, nord.” All Agmaer was brave enough to do was nod in agreement.

 

*******

 

Niranye’s house was both larger and grander than Agmaer was expecting. He was surprised to see that an elf was able to own such a house in Windhelm. Auerelie immediately went to the hearth to start a fire. Niranye said that she had business of her own to tend to and that they should just make themselves at home.

Once the fire blazed, Auerelie was able to shed a few layers of clothing. Agmaer kept his amusement to himself. He waited until they were fed and sitting with warm, spiced wine before bringing up the murders.

“I think we should look into this.”

“Have you forgotten Morthal?”

Agmaer took a slow drag of wine, buying him a few seconds. “Auerelie, what if it’s a vampire? What if it’s some sort of plot like Morthal? If we’re going to join the Dawnguard, we have to look into all possible vampire activity.”

“I already talked to Niranye about it. The guards don’t know anything. No surprise there. First murder was a month ago. A woman named Fjotli. Her family moved out of Windhelm.” Auerelie leaned back in her seat, drawing her leg up to her chest. “Then Isabelle a week later. No family, but a few close friends.”

Agmaer tapped her chair with his foot. “See, you were investigating anyway.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t say you were wrong. Could be a vampire. Could be a ordinary person sick in the head.”

“Well, I spoke to a couple of guards about the investigation, and they pointed me to Jorleif, the Jarl’s steward. He can give us sanction to assist the guards.” He refilled his mug. “Sounds like they need help, anyway. Said they couldn’t spare guards because of the war.”

Auerelie snorted. “War? This isn’t a war. This is a petty uprising that will be crushed under the heel of the Aldmeri Dominion.”

Agmaer frowned deeply. “You mean the Empire?”

“No, that too, is under the heel of the Dominion.”

“You mean the Thalmor that arrest and execute people for worshiping Talos? That kidnap people never to be seen again? They’re bad people. You can’t believe in all that?” He turned toward her.

“Say what you will, the future belongs to the Dominion.” Auerelie’s eyebrows arched, adopting that haughty expression that high elves were known for. “You do not understand.”

“Why? Because I’m just a simple, barbaric, heretical nord?”

“Yes.” She felt fire ignite under her skin. “That we are superior to men is an established fact.” She stood, towering over him. “That the very language you speak is based off Altmeris. Your customs, your art, your science, your system of writing, your magic disciplines, even your laws are all borrowed from my people. You don’t get to talk down to us, snowback.”

Agmaer jumped from his seat. His eyes were wide with hurt and his skin flushed. “Then maybe I don’t need some stuck-up sow as my partner!”

They both stared at each other. Auerelie clung desperately to her anger. Until now, her entire life had been the Dominion, and she could not let that be in vain. All that suffering had to mean something. She was not ready to let it go just yet.

Agmaer stormed off, marching out into the cold night. Auerelie did not stop him, and she forced herself to remember that she knew their relationship would never last.

 

*******

 

Auerelie left early in the morning, still wanting to talk to Jorleif. Agmaer was right about the possibility of vampires. She huddled further into her cloak, and swore to herself that she did not care where Agmaer was. That lasted halfway to the Palace of Kings.

She veered off toward Candlehearth Hall, not knowing where else to start. Even this early, there were plenty of people coming and going. She stopped a nord woman on her way out. “Have you seen a friend of mine? Agmaer. Nord, young, pale hair, eyes, and skin.”

“Oh honey, that don’t much narrow it down. That would be like me asking have you seen a tall, gold high elf.” She cocked her hip to the side, her mouth tilted in amusement. “But as it is, I do know where your friend is. Came in last night looking like a stormcloud.”

Auerelie nodded. “Thank you…”

“Susanna. I work here.” She jerked her head toward the door. “Just up stairs having breakfast. See you around, my beauty.” Auerelie could not think of a reply before Susanna left.

Upstairs, she found Agmaer sitting with the bard, Luaffyn. Auerelie could feel her skin stretched tight across her face. Before she could decide on a course of action, Luaffyn saw her, and Agmaer turned to look.

His face dropped at the sight of her. After a few soft words and a kiss on his cheek, Luaffyn left. Agmaer waved the high elf over, face still grim. Luckily, his table was in a far enough corner to grant the illusion of privacy.

She sat down heavily, looking at everything except the man in front of her.

“Why are you here?” Agmaer sounded incredibly weary.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she could find her words. “I… apologize.”

“For what? You made your feelings quite clear.” He moved to stand, but Auerelie stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“No. I mean…” She sighed. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.” She pulled her arm back, tucking it beneath her cloak. She kept her eyes on the table, and Agmaer could not help by admire the way her hair looked like liquid gold in the light.

“But you meant them.”

“I… don’t know what to say.” She stayed up most of the night trying to imagine this very conversation. “You’re my friend, and I don’t know how that happened.” She looked at him. “And I want you to keep being my friend, but I don’t know how to do that.”

“I thought of you as a friend, you know.” That quiet hurt in his voice twisted her heart.

“And you treated me like a friend from the very beginning. I wasn’t worthy of that friendship, and I know that I’m not worthy of it now.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “But I want to try. The things I said were cruel, and I want to take them back. But, I understand if this is… broken.”

Agmaer stared at her for a long time.

Auerelie took his silence as an answer. She stood slowly, and breathed through stuffing her hurt and her anger at herself down until it did not feel so sharp.

Agmaer snagged her hand before she could leave, and he held it gently. “I think we have murders to investigate.” It was not a definite answer, but Auerelie took it as a sign.


	5. Blood On the Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really hard beta-ing your own stuff, so feel free to point out errors or leave constructive criticism.

"These are difficult times indeed, when men stalk their brethren like beasts. My men are stretched thin as it is. If you offer your aid, I will gladly accept. The guards will be told to assist you as necessary. I'm happy to lend a hand as much as I can, as well."

Jorleif was proving to be rather long-winded, but Auerelie bore it all for the sake of the investigation. Both Agmaer and Auerelie were given tokens with the sigil of Windhelm, granting them the authority to act on behalf of the guard.

“You really think the guards will listen to us?” She pocketed the token.

“I think they need all the help they can get. You heard Jorleif. The captain of the guard is a man named Viggod, so we’ll see him first and hopefully, he knows more.”

She sighed deeply. “He can’t possibly know less.”

 

*******

 

Captain Viggod Winter-Fist was a bear of a man with hair redder than flame and rivaling Auerelie for height. She did not expect much in the way of hospitality when he ushered them into his office, so she was surprised when he offered them hot brandy.

“I’ll help you any way that I can. Windhelm is a big city, and we’re stretched too thin as it is. Farm folk been having problems with bandits and the like, so I’ve had to redirect a lot of my men.” Viggod sighed and suddenly looked incredibly tired. “It ain’t right. People ought to feel safe in their homes.”

Viggod pulled out a report sitting under a tower of other reports demanding attention. He gave it to Agmaer. “This ain’t widely known, but there’s been two other murders than the ones everyone knows about. First, it was a dark elf lass named Tedlayne Belsravel. Fresh from Morrowind, poor girl. Second, an argonian woman, Sheltul.  _ Then _ Fjotli and Isabelle.”

“Why not talk about the other murders?”

Auerelie scoffed. “Why in Oblivion would he? An elf and an argonian are murdered in Windhelm. Who’s going to care?”

“I wanna say that ain’t fair, but that’s the sad truth of it. The Jarl wouldn’t spare the men or the resources.” Viggod scratched at his beard. “I’m glad there’s someone else that cares about this. You’ll find an ally in Brunwulf Free-Winter. Speak to him if you get the chance. And if you can catch this bastard, it’ll put a lot of minds at ease. And I’ll make sure you’re paid handsomely.”

Agmaer handed the report back to Viggod. “We’ll certainly try. The report said there were no witnesses.”

“None that would talk to us, anyway. Can you blame them? The dark elves walled off in the Gray Quarter and the argonians exiled to the waterfront. You might have better luck, but I doubt it.”

 

*******

 

Auerelie went to speak with the dark elves. With Suvaris there to vouch for her, Auerelie found out that Tedlayne Belsravel had only been in the city for a few weeks before she was killed. She sold most of her possessions brought from Morrowind to Calixto Corrium. Tedlayne also sold her talents as a seamstress, and there was rumor that Quintus Navale had been sweet on her. Like, the other women, she had been murdered at night, and her body was found in an alley near the Stone Quarter.

Agmaer was not having much luck in getting the argonians to speak to him. They mostly hissed at him until he went away. Eventually, he had to give up. But before Agmaer could reach the gates, he was stopped by an argonian that had been too busy unloading on the dock to speak to him earlier.

“You’re really looking into the killings?”

“That’s right. A woman named Sheltul was killed. Did you know her? No one will talk about her.”

“Yes. Sheltul. She had dreams of living in the city.” He made a soft clicking sound in the back of his throat. “She used to sneak out of the Assemblage at night, sometimes.”

“Do you know where she went?”

“She… had a lover. A human. She went to see him. We told her it was dangerous.” He looked at Agmaer for a long moment. “Calixto Corrium, his name. Sheltul’s body was found in the city, near the market.”

“Thank you. Ah, I didn’t get your name, friend.”

“This one is Scouts-Many-Marshes.”

“Agmaer. I promise we’re going to do everything we can to catch this guy.”

“May the earth beneath your feet be always soft.”

 

*******

 

Auerelie and Agmaer met at Niranye’s house, apparently their new base of operations. Surprisingly, Niranya hosted them with very little complaining. She didn’t say it, but she was just as worried about The Butcher as everyone else in Windhelm.

It was slow going trying to piece together official reports, their own notes, what little the guards had to say, and gossip. “I’m not sure we have enough to go on.” Auerelie leaned back in her chair.

Agmaer sighed. “Four murders and no one saw or heard anything. That seems odd.”

“What if it’s a coverup? Guards covering for one of their own.”

“Viggod didn’t seem like the type of guy to allow that.”

She shrugged. “Who said he knew? Or maybe he’s a really good liar.”

“Either way, we got a lot of work to do. Tomorrow we’ll visit the alleys where the bodies were found. See if there’s  _ anything _ we can use.”

 

*******

 

In the morning, they found out that Friga Shatter-Shield had been murdered in her home, and the city was in a panic over the death of someone from such a prominent family. Auerelie thought that maybe more guards would be involved this time, but she was proven wrong by the gaggle of citizens gathered outside of Hjerim Manor.

She and Agmaer had to push their way through the crowd. There were only three guards, two of which were preparing Friga’s body to be taken to the Hall of the Dead. Auerelie saw what little color Agmaer had drain from his face. The scene was gruesome even without the body.

It was odd to see such an opulent home spattered with gore. There was overturned and broken furniture, shattered lanterns, and rugs tacky with blood. Auerelie gently touched Agmaer’s arm, shaking him out of his stupor. “Come. Let’s look around.”

Agmaer almost suggested splitting up, but he suddenly wanted Auerelie in his sight at all times. They carefully picked over sheafs of paper, finding nothing of interest. Friga apparently wrote a lot of poetry.

Auerelie poked through the kitchen, dining room, and sitting area. Whoever killed Friga was not after money. There were still a cabinet of silver dishes and all the settings. She found an amulet of Talos tucked under a drawer of folded napkins. After a moment, she decided to leave the amulet for Friga’s family to have.

Agmaer took the room upstairs, feeling uneasy at pawing through a dead woman’s things. The rooms here were richly furnished but also lived-in and homey. There was a saucer and cup that still had tea. On an overstuffed chair by the now cold fireplace, there was swath of red silk being embroidered with gold thread. He felt a sudden stab of sadness over the fact that Friga would never finish it.

He stood in the master bedroom, slowly turning in circles trying to figure out where to begin his search. Despite the numerous trunks, shelves, tables, a chifforobe, and an armoire, Agmaer came up with nothing. As he moved toward the window, one of the floorboards groaned under his weight. Agmaer frowned and pressed his weight harder against the wood.

Moving the loose board revealed a small silver box.

Auerelie was in the middle of looking through one of the book shelves when Agmaer suddenly appeared over her shoulder. She nearly threw a book at him. Before she could say anything, he thrust the box at her. “Look at this. I don’t know why, but there’s something weird about this.”

The box contained a mithril chain with a eight-sided amulet carved from jade and emblazoned with skulls. Auerelie frowned as she held the necklace up in the light of a window. She could feel the magic around the amulet, causing it to flicker through several stages of transparency. “Why would she have this?” She dropped the amulet back in its box.

“I don’t know. It’s…”

“I think I know what this is, but…” Her brow furrowed. “I’m not sure I believe it. This fits the description of the Necromancer’s Amulet. It was created by the King of Worms himself thousands of years ago.”

“Who is the King of Worms?”

“An altmer lich named Mannimarco. Probably the most infamous mage to ever practice necromancy.” Auerelie stared down at the box, her expression troubled. “I wouldn’t know what to do with this.” She tucked the box into the pouch hanging at her side. “Let’s go talk to the Dead Priest.”

 

*******

 

Helgird met with them readily enough. There had been a lot of people coming and going from the Hall of Dead lately, but she did not seem to mind. She was an elderly woman with a soft voice and a kind face. Her hands were steady when she showed them Friga’s body.

Agmaer could not look at Friga Shatter-Shield’s body for more than a moment. She had been cut open from each shoulder and down her sternum. There were still gaping wounds doing down the inside of each arm and the insides of her legs. She was ghost-white and bloodless.

Auerelie closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. “Do you… know what happened? I’ve seen cuts like these but only for…”

“Surgery and scientific study,” Helgird finished with a slow shake of her head. “Poor child. Nilsine, her twin, is inconsolable. Tova won’t even come see the body. Torbjorn’s been shouldering the burden thus far. No parent should have to bury their child.”

“Can you tell us anything else? Like maybe… a ritual or something that could involve this.”

“Ritual?” Helgrid looked thoughtful as she covered Friga’s body once more. “Raising the dead. Or maybe manipulation of life. The court wizard might be able to tell you more. Calixto Corrium could help you. He’s very knowledgeable.”

Auerelie nodded. “Thank you, Your Reverence. We have taken enough of your time today.” She had to take Agmaer’s arm to guide him back outside.

 

*******

 

Agmaer was sombre and silent on their way to Calixto’s House of Curiosities, and Auerelie quickly decided that she did not like this version of him. “Are you going to be alright? I can go alone, and you can go back to Niranye’s house.”

“No,” he blurted out, speaking over her. “No, we don’t… we can’t separate.” He ran his hands through his hair. “It’s just… I’ve… never seen anything like that before. I know I’ve killed vampires, but this is different.”

She watched him out of the corner of her eye. “It doesn’t really get any easier. When it does, that’s when you’ve lost sight of yourself.” She gently nudged his shoulder. “We’ll go talk to Corrium then we’ll go get a round. I’ll buy.”

Calixto Corrium was a well-dressed imperial who was aging badly. He invited them in quickly, already launching into his youthful adventures. Auerelie looked around the room, which was lined with shelves and some glass cases. There were all sorts of trinkets, weapons, armor, and other things he had collected over the years.

“We’re here hoping that you could give us some information.”

Calixto turned to her. “Of course, of course. What can I help you with?”

When she showed him the Necromancer’s Amulet, he reeled back in surprise. “What do you know about this?”

Agmaer moved to stand in front of the door, and once recovered, Calixto launched into his explanation. “It’s a Wheelstone. A sort of badge of office for court wizards. I haven’t seen one of these beauties in years. I’d be more than happy to take it off your hands.”

“We’re not looking to sell it. Just get information.”

“I’ll gladly give you five hundred septims for it.”

Auerelie tucked the amulet away. “Perhaps another time.” She grabbed Agmaer by the arm and made a swift exit.

The sun was starting to dip low in the sky, throwing the city in sharp relief. They made their way toward Candlehearth Hall.

“Do you think he’s lying?”

“Oh, yes.” Auerelie gave Agmaer a soft look when she thought he was not looking. “But we don’t know why he’s lying.”

Agmaer sighed, his breath fogging heavily. “You know, Corrium’s come up every time we’ve talked to somebody. Tedlayne Belsravel sold him her valuables. Sheltul was supposedly his lover. Fjotli sold him produce from her family’s farm, and Isabelle was his maid. Now, that amulet in Friga Shatter-Shield’s house.”

“I just don’t understand what he would do with the amulet. He’s not a practiced mage, which you would need to be to weld the thing.” They speculated all the way to the inn and late into the night.

 

*******

 

Auerelie woke to someone pounding on her door. She nearly fall out of bed trying to get to her feet. Swearing in altmeris, she jerked the door open to reveal Agmaer. “The sun’s not even up yet.”

“Susanna’s dead.”

She blinked slowly. “What? Susanna at the inn?” He nodded. “We just saw her about four hours ago.” She sagged against the door jamb. “What…” She ran her hands through her tangle of hair. “Where?”

Agmaer looked as tired as she felt. “Just a few streets over from inn. Viggod delivered the news himself. And you might want to ask Niranye if we should get out of her hair. She’s scarier than you are in the mornings.”

Auerelie waved dismissively. “She’s fine. Just let me get dressed. The body still there?”

“Yeah. I’ll meet you outside.”

 

*******

 

Susanna’s body laid broken over one of the gravestones next to the Hall of the Dead. And like Friga, she was carved up and drained of blood. There were a couple of guards trying to keep people back. Viggod stood near the body talking with Helgrid.

Amgaer jogged up to the captain. “Please, tell me someone saw something. Anything.”

“Not much to see. No light back here. There are some blood trails, but they don’t lead anywhere.” Viggod sighed heavily, running his hand over his head. “Six women. Gods, and that’s just the ones we know about. Ulfric can’t ignore this anymore.”

Auerelie watched as the guards, under the direction of Helgrid, carry Susanna away. The sun was barely cresting over the horizon, and she burrowed deeper into her cloak. She turned to Agmaer. “I don’t care what time it is, we’re going to see the court wizard.”

 

*******

 

Wuuferth the Unliving was an old and powerful sorcerer, but that didn’t stop Auerelie from barging into his quarters. He was up already and bent over an elaborate alchemy table. He didn’t acknowledge them until he was done measuring out ingredients. “I don’t get many visitors. Whatever you've heard I can do is probably true.” He chuckled. “Yes, I'm a powerful wizard. No, I won't put on a magic show for you. Does that cover everything?”

“No,” Auerelie replied dryly.

“Ah, well, I’ll still accept questions from a beautiful woman.” He took a seat, his robes pooling around him.

“Calixto Corrium said this amulet was a Wheelhouse.” She pulled the amulet from its box. “But I know that’s not true.”

Wuuferth leaned forward, eyes going wide. “By the Divines, where did you get that, girl?”

“It  _ is _ the Necromancer's Amulet.”

“Yes, it is.”

“We found this in Friga Shatter-Shield’s house after she was murdered.”

“That some dark magic. Powerful.” Wuuferth tugged on his beard. “That thing hasn’t been seen since the last era.”

Agmaer watched Auerelie put the amulet away again. “Is there anything it can do besides, um, raise the dead?”

“That’s a good question, lad. The Necromancer's Amulet can also create undead. Can provide the power needed to make the wearer a lich. There’s no telling what else. But I have noticed a… spike in magicka in Windhelm. The pulses started far apart then came faster and faster.”

“You think it could be the killer,” Agmaer wondered with a frown.

Wuuferth nodded. “Definitely your best bet.” He looked at Auerelie. “You should be able to feel where it’s strongest. All elves, especially yours, are attuned to magic to some degree. Find that point then you’ll have to wait him out.”

“All the murders happened in or near the Stone Quarter. Auerelie can follow the magic, and I can stake out the area. Gods, I hope we catch this guy.”

 

*******

 

Agmaer walked the outer edges of the marketplace. He tried to pretend he was browsing, but he felt too uneasy. The feeling worsened whenever Auerelie disappeared from view. There were so many people, and almost everyone of them was talking about The Butcher. He had the thought that any one of them could be killer.

As the day wore on, Agmaer grew more and more unsettled. The vendors were starting to give him strange looks. Auerelie checked in a few minutes ago, but even that did not lessen his apprehension.

A scream pierced the air, and Agmaer ran toward the commotion. His heart was beating so fast that his chest hurt. At the edge of the market, a guard stood with Luaffyn. Up close, he could see her bloodied nose and the torn shoulder of her dress. She was shaking but unafraid.

“What… happened? Are you alright?”

Luaffyn took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m alright, Agmaer. It’s… just some thief. Took my coin bag. I tried to grab it back, but he didn’t like that too much.” She tried to wave him and the guard away.

“I’ll stay with her for now.”

Luaffyn leaned against the low wall around smithy, and she could feel the heat through the stones. “I don’t think they’ll catch him. I’m surprised the guard came over.” She sighed. “Bloody bastard took my tips from last night.” She tugged at her clothes, unable to stop fidgeting.

“Luaffyn, I’m sorry. About this. About Susanna.” Her eyes watered at her friend’s name. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the inn.”

 

*******

 

After dropping her off, Agmaer came straight back to the market. By now, a lot of the stalls were closing up. He flagged down a guard. “Have you seen a high elf in a green cloak?” The guard shook their head before moving on. He checked with several merchants, receiving the same answer.

Agmaer told himself that he would not panic. He started to comb through the tight, narrow alleys of the Stone Quarter. Searching through the growing darkness burned through his mantra to remain calm. He called her name.

He stepped in a small puddle of blood, and he felt his heart stop. Sharp terror flooded his veins along with adrenalin. He followed a trail of blood on the icy ground, which became more treacherous with coming snow on the heels of the setting sun.

Agmaer nearly lost his way several times where the blood had spread across old snow slush. It was leading him back to Hjerim Manor. All the windows were dark. Agmaer ran around the house, looking for entry.

The back door was ajar. He slid inside as quietly as possible. He swore that the pounding of his heart would give him away. There was more blood, and the smell of it was heavy in the air.

A sound like splintering wood echoed off the walls.

Voices.

Agmaer found where one of the bookcases had shifted from the wall to reveal stairs. He was reminded of Alva and that fear pitched him forward. He gagged at the smell of rotting meat and the sharp tang of blood. The air felt charged. Suddenly, Auerelie staggered into view.

Calixto Corrium pursued her, his eyes glowing and teeth bared. Agmaer jumped the last few stairs, tackling Calixto. They went down hard. Auerelie dragged Agmaer to his feet.

“He’s a damned vampire.”

Agmaer drew his axes. Auerelie lost her sword early on in the battle, and her small knives did not inflict much damage.

Behind Calixto, a great winged beast leapt out of the shadows. Auerelie brought up a cloak of flame around her and Agmaer. She could not power the spell for more than a second or two lest the house catch fire.

Agmaer took the opening, cleaving the beast’s arm with one axe and its shoulder with the other.

Calixo shot a bolt of ice, nearly catching Auerelie in the chest. It was hard to maneuver in the cellar, but there were plenty of tight corners to dodge spells. “Come on, mortal! I can smell your blood, your fear!” Ice shattered against the wall.

Auerelie created a chain of lightning, sending it through Calixo and off to the creature Agmaer had managed to gravely wound. Calixo seized, but the effect did not last long. He summoned three skeletal warriors to put between them.

“Auerelie, get him! I got this!”

She ran after Calixo, and he met her at the top of the stairs with a spike of ice that shattered against her ward.

“Fight me, vampire.” She summoned a wave of electricity, using it as both a shield and a weapon. Calixo danced around her strikes with dizzying speed.

He cloaked himself in frost. Tendrils of ice spread across the floor and up the walls. Auerelie’s breath plumed in the air. She shot a burst of light bright enough to blind them both.

He created waves of cold to keep her pushed back, but she only needed the time to weave another spell.

The light vanished as quickly as it had come. Her vision cleared in time for her to catch a spear of ice to the shoulder. She stumbled backward, trying to breath through the pain of the cold creeping down her arm. She still had her other hand to keep her spell alive.

Calixo’s hands glowed with red light. Auerelie’s eyes widen in terror.

“Oh, you know this spell, prey.” He brought his hands together, the spell growing larger. The moment he let that light shoot forward, she released her own magic.

The air crackled, and small shocks of electricity flickered across her body. In a burst of thunder, a storm of lightning exploded around her. It surged across the room, shattering wood. It bounced off metal, and incinerated cloth. Books combusted, feeding the white-hot fire. Calixo’s ice and his wards could not stand against it.

Auerelie’s magicka continually fed the storm. It did not take long for her limbs to start shaking. Sweat seeped through her clothes. She gritted her teeth against the pain, and focused on not blacking out. As the spell consumed Calixo, she could not hear his screams over her own heaving chest and the crackle of lightning. She managed to stay upright long enough to see Calixo turn to dust.

 

*******

 

Auerelie surfaced from her dream with a strangled cry. Her eyes darted wildly around the room, and it took several seconds for her to recognize Niranye’s guest room. She was clammy with sweat, and she could not shake the tremor in her left arm. She dragged in a gasping breath, releasing it as a sob. She was overwhelmed.

The door opened and Agmaer appeared. He had a thick bandage wrapped around his right shoulder and arm. Auerelie had her face buried in her knees against her chest. He watched her for a moment, and did not know what to say. In the end, he just took the chair next to the bed.

She did not move for a long time, and when she did, her face was ruddy and stained with tears. “Auerelie?” He touched the bed near her elbow. “You’re safe. You’re safe, and Calixo is dead.”

“Agmaer…” She stared at him, eyes wide and her mouth trembling. She touched his leg just to make sure he was real. Her resulting laugh edged on hysteria. “I thought… I thought…” She closed her eyes.

Agmaer slowly pulled her against his chest, and she melted against him like she did after Movarth’s death. “Hey, it’s alright.” He hugged her until she squirmed to get away. “You have a lot of people that want to see you. When you’re ready, of course.”

“What, what was he trying to do? Did you find out?”

Agmaer nodded, his expression grim. “Yeah, he was trying to resurrect his sister as a vampire.”

“We stopped him.” She rubbed her eyes, fighting tears of relief this time. “Where’s the amulet?” Her expression was bordering on panic.

Agmaer squeezed her hand. “It’s gone. It just disappeared.”

“Where’s Niranye?”

“The market. It’s only noon.” Agmaer started to get up, but she shook her head.

“I have to say this now. I might… I might not be able to later.” She lowered her head, and stared at her trembling left hand. “Those Stormcloaks were right about me. I am, well I was, a member of the Thalmor.”

Agmaer sighed. “I think I figured that out. You said you were a soldier, and you said you were from the Summerset Isles. What else would you be?”

“I joined because I was expected to. My parents were high ranking Thalmor soldiers. My brother is a highly ranked and respected naval battlemage. My aunt, who raised me, is a mid-ranking Justiciar. I went where the Dominion told me to go. I killed who they told me to kill.” Auerelie hated the way her eyes stung. “After… everything, they threw me away. I was  _ honorably discharged _ , but they were just going to ship me off back home the second I outlived my usefulness.”

“Why didn't you go? I thought you were homesick.”

“I was. I still am. You know what they told me about my patrol after they were… brutally murdered? That it wasn't the Dominion’s problem.” She was still in disbelief. “Not the… you think vampires care about borders? About race? Ideology? There's something behind these attacks. My going home doesn't fucking fix that.” She sighed wearily. “So, I left. And when I heard about the Dawnguard, I knew I had to join.”

Agmaer was silent, thoughtful. Despite their argument, his heart hurt for her. “Do you still mean those things you said?”

In a whisper, she replied, “I don’t want to.”

He touched her hand, and when she did not pull away, his fingers curled around her surprisingly delicate wrist. “I still think of you as a friend, you know. We’ve already been through a lot.” He chuckled. “Nords often form their strongest friendships through blood spilled together in battle.”

That startled a laugh out of her. “You’re people are… strange to me. But fearless. Steady.” She glanced at him. “Loyal. Thank you for not leaving.”

 

*******

 

Agmaer was right about the numerous people that wanted to see her. She was starting to wish Agmaer had killed Calixto.

Captain Viggod came to visit before she was even well enough to get out of bed. She spent the whole time trying smooth the wrinkles from her clothes and untangle her hair. Looking so unkempt was starting to make her grumpy.

Viggod made good on his promise of gold. He clasped his hand around her forearm, showing her a warrior’s respect. Once he left, Agmaer told her about families and friends of the victims wanting to speak to her. Even the Jarl could not ignore her, and she was expected at the palace as soon as possible.

“The next serial murder we solve, you are taking the credit.”

 

*******

 

Auerelie thought that they would be able to leave Windhelm right after the close of the investigation. She was wrong.

Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak looked like he swallowed a pinecone, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from smiling. Jorleif was quite pleasant when he introduced her and Agmaer to the Jarl. Standing beside the would-be High King of Skyrim was his housecarl, Galmar Stone-Fist and his military commander, Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced. They all looked like they would rather be anywhere else.

Auerelie stood at parade rest, wearing the blue emblem of Windhelm on her breast. Agmaer wore the same, and he looked less at ease. She was used to such scrutiny.

Jorleif seated them in a grand meeting chamber with a round table. It put Agmaer on one side of her and Yrsarald on the other.

“You have done Windhelm a tremendous service in stopping these killings. Friga Shatter-Shield, Susanna, Isabelle, and Fjotli. Their spirits can rest easy now.”

“You forgot Sheltul and Tedlayne Belsravel, Jarl Ulfric.” Agmaer held the gaze of the most powerful men in Windhelm and leaders of the rebellion. “Tedlayne Belsravel was a dark elf that came to Windhelm for a better life. Sheltul worked tirelessly on the docks. They were citizens, too.”

Ulfric looked thoughtful for a moment. “I understand. You have fire in your heart. I would make you a captain in my army if you decide to stay and fight for Skyrim’s independence.”

Galmar grunted, “Boy, that's a mighty fine offer. Any true son of Skyrim would take it.”

Auerelie hated that phrase, which had become the motto of the rebellion.

Yrsarald leaned back in his chair. “Leave the boy be, Galmar. He’s joined at the hip with the high elf.”

“Never thought I’d be showing a knife-ear gratitude.” Galmar shook his head.

Agmaer felt his face redden. “Don’t call her that.” Before he could continue, Auerelie interrupted.

“It's alright.” It was not. “I’d be richer than Zenithar if I had a coin for every time I heard that.”

“Gentlemen, we’re here only to reward them for saving the people of Windhelm from a vampire.” Ulfric’s words smoothed over his companions rough edges. “I’ve been told that you travel east to Fort Dawnguard. I had heard whispers of that ancient order returning. It is an admirable goal, and one I support. I give each of you a horse and a weapon from my personal armory.”

Auerelie put on her best society smile. “Thank you, Jarl Ulfric. That is incredibly generous. With good weather, we will ride out tomorrow morning.”

 

*******

 

From the armory, Amager took a silver war axe, and Auerelie chose an ebony short sword. Inwardly, she was delighted by the sour faces of the guards when she chose one of the most expensive pieces.

The horses they were given were huge, hardy beasts meant for cold wilderness of Skyrim. Agmaer took the smaller of the two, a white mare that already seemed to like him. Auerelie’s horse was a shaggy brown stallion with restless hooves.

“I see you left me with the temperamental one.” She patted the horse on the side of the neck.

Agmaer’s grin was shameless. “Thought you could handle it.”

She shook her head. “Fine. Let’s get packed so we can leave at first light.”


	6. Fort Dawnguard

Auerelie watched as snowy Eastmarch gave way to bright trees of The Rift. It was much warmer, but the wind still cut through her. Agmaer navigated the land with ease, familiar and comfortable in nature.

She did not speak much, but he was more than willing to fill the silence. Where the chatter was once irritating, now it was companionable and comfortable background noise.

“Hey, did you pick a name for your horse yet?”

“I’m assuming you named yours already.”

Agmaer flashed her a boyish grin. “Yep, sure did. Auerelie, meet Frostmoth.”

She ducked her head, hiding a small smile. “Well done.” Amusement curled around her words. “I have named my mighty steed Bear because of his size and color. Not too original, I know.”

He shook his head. “No, I like it. We should reach Shor’s Stone in a couple of hours. We’ll rest the horses.” He patted Frostmoth’s neck affectionately. “Makes me miss my family’s farm.”

“You have a large family?”

Agmaer made a considering noise. “Kind of, I guess. My ma and pa. Their parents. A few cousins.”

“No siblings?”

His smile was fond. “Two little sisters, Norna and Vilod. Seven and twelve. They cried so much when I left, but I’m fighting for them.” He looked her way. “You said you have a brother?”

“I do. He’s much older than I, and we're not particularly close. After our parents died in the war, he sent me to live with our maternal aunt. She was kind in her own way.” She absently start to rake her fingers through Bear’s mane. “Quiet and stern but I never doubted that she loved me. And I do miss her. Both of them. Maybe once we're settled in Fort Dawnguard, I can start writing letters again.”

Agmaer fell silent, and he turned his attention strictly to the road winding before them.

“Have I said something wrong?”

“Um, no. Not really.” He sighed heavily. “My parents don't really know how to read or write very well. I learned my letters from merchants passing through the farm over the years. I tried to teach them, but it never really stuck. My sisters though. They’re smart.”

Auerelie nodded. “Then maybe they can read your letters to your family.”

“Well, if hunting vampires leaves enough time for letter writing.”

 

*******

 

Shor’s Stone was a mining town that consisted of exactly four buildings.

“Why can't your people have proper cities?”

“Windhelm is a proper city.”

Auerelie made a disparaging noise. There were a few guards patrolling, and that surprised her. Great clouds of smoke rose up from a nearby forge. The blacksmith was still hammering away at his anvil despite the late afternoon sun rapidly sinking from view.

They dismounted as one of the guards approached.

“Hold there. Not many people coming out this way.” She spoke with the heavy Nordic cadence.

Agmaer smiled sweetly at the guardswoman. “We’re on our way to Riften. We need a place to feed and water our horses. Maybe a bed for the night if you can spare it.”

She looked from Agmaer to Auerelie with a deep frown. “What about the elf? We ain’t too keen on her kind around here.”

Agmaer grabbed Auerelie’s arm, tucking himself against her side. “She’s my wife.” Auerelie pinched the inside of his elbow.

The guardswoman shook her head. “Talk to Filnjar. He runs things around here.” After giving them one more strange look, she went back to her patrol.

“Did you have to pinch so hard?” Agmaer whined while rubbing his arm.

“Wife?”

“That's really the only way they’re going to trust you. Come on, let’s find Filnjar.”

 

*******

 

Filnjar let them take their horses to the guards’ stables. Agmaer paid them for the trouble. There was no inn, but Filnjar was kind enough to set them up in his spare room. In thanks, Agmaer offered his services in the kitchen. Auerelie just stayed out of the way.

Dinner was a lighthearted affair. Agmaer was charming and earnest in recounting their adventures so far. Filnjar did not seem to mind Auerelie’s presence, but she remained silent nevertheless.

“I have to say lad, where does a farm boy from the middle of nowhere meet an elf?”

Agmaer took a large swig of ale. “I, well, Markarth. Twice a year my parents haul up that way. She was in the marketplace. I made a complete fool of myself and here we are.”

Auerelie snorted into her cup but went along with his story.

Filnjar laughed heartily. “Don’t feel bad, lad. You're not the first man to lose his head over a beautiful woman. You won't be the last.”

 

*******

 

The spare room was very small with only a bed and a chest of drawers. Agmaer sighed. “Well, I can take the floor if you don’t mind giving up a blanket.”

“Just lay down. You get the spot against the wall, however.”

It was not as awkward as either of them imagined, sleeping curled facing each other.

 

*******

 

It rained intermittently on their way to Riften. There were soldiers patrolling from the nearby Fort Greenwall. Auerelie half expected the soldiers to stop them, but they were able to travel along unimpeded.

The closer they got to Riften, the harder the rain fell. Auerelie supposed that was the trade off for snow. Still, they made good time. By nightfall, they were able to stable the horses outside the city.

When the gate guards demanded a payoff to enter the city, all Auerelie could do was stare at them incredulously. She pushed Agmaer forward. “Deal with your people.”

Oddly enough with a joke and a boyish smile, they got inside. And once more, Auerelie had to deal with a city that smelled of damp and old wood. The stench blowing in from the fishery turned her stomach. “I refuse to stay here for more than one night.”

Agmaer nodded. “Alright. Let's just find the inn.”

The Bee and Barb was a surprisingly well kept building owned by argonians. Auerelie had never seen such a thing. It was lively though, with all manner of people. She could hardly hear over the bard’s music, the laughter, and general hum of multiple conversations.

Agmaer was a bit enthralled. It was still so new to be in the middle of city life. Even Windhelm’s inn was not this busy. He watched a couple of wood elves dance gracefully to the sounds of the lute and pipes. There was a group of argonian women playing a complicated looking card game for gold.

He was not entirely certain that it was a good idea for Auerelie to talk to the owners, but they were not hissing at her, so it could not be too bad. A few minutes passed, and he saw her pocket a room key.

An unusually tall wood elf moved to Auerelie’s side. “It’s always good to see another elven face.”

She eyed him speculatively. “And what can I do for you, cousin?”

He grinned up at her. “Give me the pleasure of your company.”

“Pass,” she replied, side stepping him. Agmaer felt an odd sense of satisfaction at that.

 

*******

 

The room was larger than they were expecting, and it came with two beds. But it also came with all the noise downstairs.

Agmaer dropped onto the bed closest to the door. “I don't know what I expected.” Music almost drowned out his words.

“Really? This is about what I expected.” She plopped gracelessly onto her own bed. “Just for the night,” she reminded herself. “For Auri-El’s sake, I hope the fort is more livable than this.”

Stumbling over pronunciation, “Auri-El?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Ah, your kind calls him Akatosh. The ‘Golden God’.” She shucked off her boots with a pleased hum.

Agmaer laid back. “Were you named after him? Your names kinda sound the same.”

“Yes, actually. I suppose my parents had high hopes for me. Auerelie means ‘golden light’.”

“It's a good name.”

She did not know what to say to that.

 

*******

 

Auerelie was not sad to leave Riften behind. Through the morning mist, they started on the last leg of their journey. Bear was restless, and Auerelie had a bit of trouble making him keep pace with Frostmoth.

Without the rain, she could properly enjoy the riot of color, from towering trees to tiny mountain flowers. Butterflies were just waking for the day while there were still a few lazy torchbugs hanging in the air.

“Is it stupid that I’m nervous? I mean you look like a… warrior, but I don't know if they'll take me.”

“I wouldn't worry for two reasons. One, they are looking for people to hunt vampires, so they're going to be desperate.” She held up two fingers. “Second, you have actually fought and killed vampires and lived to tell the tale.” Her expression softened. “Besides, I could hardly leave you now.”

Agmaer ducked his head, feeling his ears burn red. “You're right. But you won't tell, right?”

She laughed softly. “I won't breathe a word. Promise.”

They carefully picked their way through the winding, wild paths of Dayspring Canyon.  It was peaceful listen to waterfalls and the wind through trees. A herd of elk darted in and out of view. And when they rounded that final bend, Fort Dawnguard dominated the skyline.

Agmaer stared with comically wide eyes. “Woah. Look at that.” He pointed. “I didn't think it would be so big.”

“Well, it definitely lives up to the name of fortified castle.” She steered Bear up the steep path to the fort. “It's quiet. I hope this wasn’t for nothing.”

“No, look.” He pointed out thin ribbons of smoke wafting from a chimney. “I wonder how many people are already here.”

There was the beginnings of a stable about halfway up the road. They decided to take care the horses as best they could then see about supplies once they found someone in charge. The walk up to the front gates was uneventful.

 

*******

 

There was a fully armored and armed man guarding the entrance. “State your business.”

Auerelie spoke up, “We have come to join the Dawnguard.”

He laughed. “Ah, fresh blood! You’ll want Isran. In you get.”

The interior of the fort left much to be desired, but Auerelie could see where repairs were under way. They stood in a round vestibule, the center brilliantly lit by a skylight. And they did not have to wait long before someone came to greet them.

The leader of the Dawnguard was a man named Isran, a tall redguard in his prime. He studied them with a face not meant for smiling. “Recruits? So you want to fight vampires. I’ll be the judge of that.” His voice was deep and gravelly.

Auerelie moved into the light, and there was a bit of petty satisfaction that Isran had to look up at her. “I am Auerelie.”

Isran grunted. “Got a fire in your belly to kill vampires, eh? Good on you. We ain't got much yet, but we’re just getting started.”

He turned his attention to Agmaer. “You there, boy! Stop skulking in the shadows and step up here. What's your name?”

Agmaer swallowed hard and gathered his courage before coming forward. “I'm, uh... my name is Agmaer of Skagafoss, sir.”

“Do I look like a ‘ _sir_ ' to you, boy? I'm not a soldier, and you're not joining the army.”

Agmaer fought the urge to wring his hands. “Yes, sir... Isran.”

Isran shook his head. “Farm boy, huh? What's your weapon?”

“Oh, my weapon? I mostly just use my pa's axe when wolves are attacking the goats or something.” He was starting to sweat.

“My pa's axe!” He laughed. “Stendarr preserve us!”

Auerelie scowled, and interrupted with, “He has already fought and killed several vampires. And as have I.” She looked down at Isran with a haughty sneer.

“Don’t go getting yourself worked up, lass.” He crossed his arms, and let the full weight of his stare rest on Agmaer. “Don't worry, I think we can make a Dawnguard out of you. Like I said, there's not a lot here, but you’re welcome to any weapons and armor.”

 

*******

 

Much of the massive fort was still mostly unlivable, but that did not stop Auerelie and Agmaer from settling in. They chose quarters on the second floor. The rooms were just large enough to not be suffocating, but it was nice to have quiet and their own bed.

Isran wanted to send them out on assignment after his contact from the Vigilants of Stendarr showed up with more information. Until then, they were meant to train.

They found out that the guard they met at the gates was a veteran commander named Celann, and he was Isran’s second in command. An orc called Durak quickly took Agmaer under his wing for training once he saw his potential with a crossbow. Auerelie spent time trying to improve her magic, which was proving a difficult endeavor without the proper tools. A nord warrior, Ingjard, enjoyed testing her skill with a blade, and if Auerelie did not hate him so much, she would thank Ulfric for such a finely crafted sword.

Mogrul, an old orc warrior, showed Auerelie the entirety of the fort and grounds. They immediately began plans for repairs, fortifications, training yards, and weapons forging. She thought about finding skilled labor and staffing and wondered if she was getting invested too quickly.

Agmaer ended up spending a lot of his days apart from Auerelie. He did not think it was possible to miss a person that lived in the same building, but every evening he gently intruded upon her. Sometimes, they sat on her bed and played cards, other times, they each tended to their own tasks while sharing space. He liked it, and he was sure she felt the same.

 

*******

 

Coming in from the training yard, they got to witness the argument between Isran and a Vigilant of Stendarr.

“... and now you want to come running to safety with the Dawnguard, is that it? Tolan, I clearly remember Keeper Carcette telling me repeatedly that Dawnguard is a crumbling ruin, not worth the expense and manpower to repair. And now that you've stirred up the vampires against you, you come begging for my protection?”

“Isran, Carcette is dead. The Hall of Vigilants... _everyone_... they're all dead. You were right, we were wrong. Isn't that enough for you?” Tolan’s expression warred with anger and sorrow.

“Yes, well... I never wanted any of this to happen. I tried to warn all of you…” He sighed heavily. “I am sorry, you know.”

“Are you?” Tolan gripped the amulet of Stendarr hanging from his neck. “I know what you think of us. You think we're soft, that we're cowards. You think our deaths proved our weakness. Stendarr grant that you do not have to face the same test and be found wanting.”

Isran ran a hand over his head, suddenly weary. “I have someone that can help you, Tolan.” He gestured for Agmaer and Auerelie to join them. “Tell them about Dimhollow Crypt.”

Tolan eyed each of them in turn, dark blue eyes impossibly sad. Auerelie knew that pain. “Aye. Brother Adalvald was sure it held some long-lost vampire artifact. We didn't listen to him any more than we did Isran. He was at the Hall when it was attacked…”

Agmaer broke a long moment of silence. “Do you have any idea what the artifact is?”

Tolan shook his head. “No clue. Only that it’s important.”

Isran nodded. “That's good enough for me. Go see what the vampires were looking for in this Dimhollow Crypt. With any luck, they'll still be there.”

“I’ll meet you there. It's the least I can do to avenge my fallen comrades.”

“Tolan, I really don't think that's a good idea. The Vigilants were never trained for…”

“I'm going to Dimhollow Crypt, Isran. Perhaps, I can be of some _small assistance_ to your Dawnguard.”

Auerelie exchanged looks with Agmaer, both of them getting a bad feeling. Agmaer cleared his throat to catch Tolan’s attention. “Maybe we should travel together.”

“And this is the help you promised me, Isran?”

“Yes, they're trained and ready.”


	7. The Awakening

****Tolan did not know what to make of his new traveling companions. Auerelie came off as distant and humorless. Odd, considering Agmaer was so expressive, chatty, quick to smile, and he looked at the high elf as though she hung the moons.

They made good time riding north from Riften. Agmaer suggested stopping through Shor’s Stone to tend to the horses. The weather remained mild until they reached the village of Kynesgrove.

A storm rolled down from the north, dumping freezing rain and bits of ice. They got caught in the onslaught. After getting soaked getting the horses stabled, they ducked into Braidwood Inn.

The burst of heat that met them at the door made Auerelie’s chest burn. Iddra, the owner, was able to set them up with rooms and a place to dry their clothes.

Tolan and Agmaer met in the dining area, sitting tucked in a corner close to one of the braziers. “How long have you been at Fort Dawnguard?” Tolan tore off a hunk of bread to slather with butter.

“Oh, umm, about a month. Me and Auerelie traveled from Dragon Bridge, where we met.” Agmaer was looking down at his food. “Had a lot of adventures along the way.”

“And you’ve fought vampires before?” He looked a bit skeptical.

He nodded. “Yeah. In Dragon Bridge, Morthal, and Windhelm. We knew they had to be up to something, and I hope we find some answers.”

“And your friend, she is capable? Trustworthy? It’s a hard thing to have someone you don't know guard your back.”

Agmaer frowned. “Are you asking because she's an elf?”

“Not really.” Tolan took a long drink of ale. “You don't have to go getting defensive just because you're sweet on her.”

Agmaer choked and sputtered in his haste to deny it.

Tolan clapped him hard on the back. “Just get some rest, lad.”

 

*******

 

The storm continued, the rain turning to snow. Tolan stood by the window, barely able to make out the outline of the building across the road. He prayed the vampires were stuck just as they were.

Agmaer was pleasant enough company, and he endeared himself to Iddra by helping out around the inn. Tolan had not seen Auerelie since that first night they came in from the storm.

Tolan dropped down on the bench next to Agmaer. “The lass not joining us again tonight?”

“Ah, no. I don't think so.” Agmaer nervously rubbed his hands through his hair.

Tolan nodded. “Alright then. Just… make sure she doesn't starve.”

 

*******

 

After three days they set out again, riding hard to Windhelm. Auerelie took point this time, pushing Bear against the snow threatening overhead.

Their stop in Windhelm was brief, staying with Niranye for the night and getting back on the road at sunrise.

It took two days to reach Nightgate Inn, which was their final stop before leaving the main roads for Dimhollow. Agmaer haggled with Hadring, the aging proprietor. They could not take the horses any further knowing the last stretch was mountainous wilderness. Hadring had the space, but he charged them a premium.

Tolan grew more restless the closer they got. He wanted badly to avenge his fallen brothers and sisters.

 

*******

 

Auerelie stared at Tolan as if she could not believe someone so stupid could possibly exist. “I understand this is personal for you, Vigilant. I do. That doesn’t mean we can run off unprepared and hope for the best.”

“You don't understand, elf. I don't expect you to. We’ve wasted enough time here.”

Agmaer wanted to intervene, but he was not sure that was wise.

“It’s not a waste of time to wait on supplies. If this map is right, on foot, it will probably take us about four days to reach Dimhollow. _At least_. And who knows what we will find there. Then we'll need to survive the journey back.” Auerelie sighed, her patience for humans reaching a new low.

Tolan pointed at the map. “There are caches. We can pick up--”

“Speculation. We have to be prepared for a round trip.”

“I’m telling you this will work.”

“And I'm telling you that I disagree.” She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. “So if we run out of food, what do you expect us to eat? Each other?”

“No one put you in charge.”

Auerelie tightened her jaw, resisting to urge to choke a Vigilant of Stendarr. “No one is ‘in charge’, but I’m not risking our lives unnecessarily. This is already dangerous enough without willful foolishness.”

“I agree, Tolan. It’s too easy for this to go wrong. We’re already taking the chance of not coming back.” Agmaer looked between the two of them.

Tolan sighed heavily. “Fine. If Hadring’s supply order isn't here in two days, I’m leaving without you.”

“Very well.” Auerelie stood abruptly, done with stubborn nords for the day. She left them for her room.

“You really shouldn't push her like that. She knows what she's doing, and she wants us to make it back to Fort Dawnguard.”

“Too much faith in her, lad.” Tolan shook his head. “Dangerous.”

Agmaer shrugged. “My faith in her hasn’t steered me wrong yet.”

 

*******

 

Auerelie looked up at the gentle knocking on her door. She did not particularly want company, but for Agmaer, an exception could be made. “Enter.”

Agmaer came in with a tray of food, mostly vegetables and fruits. It took awhile to see that meat was not a huge part of her diet. There was also a bottle of hot brandy sweetened with honey.

Auerelie sat up, keeping the blankets nested around her. “Managed to pry yourself away from the Vigilant.”

“You could have stayed.”

“He doesn't like me. Hasn’t this entire time. And I have suffered enough for one day.”

Agmaer shook his head with a rueful smile. “He’s not so bad. Hurting, I think. Maybe he thought Isran would personally help with this. Celann and Isran used to be Vigilants.”

Auerelie made a thoughtful sound. “Seems I'm not the only one trying to carve out a different life.” She chewed on a few juniper berries. “It's hard. But I think you know that just as well.”

“Yeah. I want to fight, but I also want to see my family again. Work the land like I used to. I miss the lush green of the Reach.”

She poured them both a bit of brandy. “Looks like we will be doing a lot traveling. You could always visit if there's business in the Reach that needs your attention.”

“You could come, too, you know.” He looked down at his drink, watching faint whiffs of steam.

“You would actually want me around your family? Your Nordic, rebellion supporting, Talos worshiping family?” She cocked an eyebrow. “That family?”

Agmaer opened and closed his mouth a few times, before weakly asking, “Talos?”

“I overheard the Vigilant asking your about your patron Divine.”

“And you’re not mad?”

She sighed. “I am not… upset with you. I also won’t pretend that I understand or approve.”

He nodded. “That’s fair. I wanted to tell you, but it always made me nervous.” His smile was sheepish. “You’re actually the very first high elf that I’ve ever talked to.”

Auerelie took a swig of brandy. “That’s… I’m not sure I’m the best example.”

He shrugged. “Maybe the best example for me.”

She pushed Agmaer with her foot. “Hush.” Her face felt hot, and she knew that he could see the bright copper of her cheeks. “I do not require flattery.”

He laughed softly. “Alright. I’ll leave you be. For now.” He stood. “Want me to leave the tray?”

She nodded.

 

*******

 

Hadring’s supplies arrived before Tolan’s deadline, and they bought anything and everything they could ever need between the three of them. Tolan was itching to go, but was convinced to wait until morning. The fewer nights spent outside lessened the chance of running into vampires.

The sun was barely coming over the horizon when they left the inn. Agmaer checked on the horses a final time, and he slipped them a few treats. The sky overhead was clear for now, but the snow had piled up high. Auerelie was bundled head to toe in layers, but she still shivered when the wind blew a little too hard. Tolan and Agmaer were content in their light armor and cloaks.

The trip to Dimhollow Crypt was uneventful, but slow going. A lot of the paths up the mountain were inaccessible or buried in snow and ice. Agmaer guided them through the worst of it, finding narrow crevices for them to climb and ledges to shelter them from the wind. It ended up taking them almost five days to reach the tunnel entrance, and even then, they had to dig their way through snow.

The tunnel led them into a large cavern, which was dotted with torches. Auerelie crouched down and motioned the others to do the same. Her robes barely rustled as she crept forward. Once her eyes adjusted to low light, she could just barely make out two dark shapes near a lowered gate. She watched for a moment longer, trying to pick out any details, but the shapes refused to coalesce into something more solid.

She moved back a few steps. Her voice was just barely above a whisper as she asked Agmaer about his crossbow skills. He quietly readied his weapon, and moved as Auerelie moved.

She pointed out the dark blots moving just out of reach of any light. Agmaer squinted, trying to make out some sort of detail. She instructed him to follow her line of vision as she rested her chin on his shoulder. It would not be a perfect shot. Agmaer fired once Auerelie tapped his leg.

One of the shapes suddenly became something very real-- some sort of hound. Agmaer’s bolt was sticking out of its chest. The other hound suddenly came into view, a large deformed thing with glowing eyes and overlarge teeth. Auerelie impaled the other creature with a spear of fire.

That encounter set the tone for their journey through Dimhollow. Auerelie used magic to burn through hounds, feral vampires, and draugr. Agmaer picked off targets from a distance, and Tolan’s warhammer took care of any enemies that caught them off guard. It was surprising to see how well they worked together.

Once Agmaer felt too cramped to use a crossbow, he drew his favorite axes--the one that was his father’s and the silver one he was awarded by Jarl Ulfric. Tolan jerked his warhammer from a large frostbite spider. “How far do you think this cave goes?”

Auerelie drank a foul tasting potion to speed up the recovery of her magicka. “No way to know.”

Further on, they found a large wooden door at the end of a long, wide tunnel. It opened to another cavern, this one deliberately carved. There was the echo of voices as they crept forward.

“...rot in Oblivion, creature.”

“Shame that you’re death will be for nought.”

Tolan tried to move past them, but Auerelie grabbed his arm, shaking her head.

“Let me go, elf. That’s Brother Adalvald.” He jerked his arm back. Before she could stop him, Tolan leapt over the balcony, warhammer swinging. There were three vampires, and they were clearly caught off guard. With a sickening crunch, Tolan caved in the skull of a vampire.

There was a flurry of action, and four thralls ran up to join their masters.

Auerelie swore in altmeris as she readied a spell. “Agmaer, try to take out who you can. This place is huge, so don’t get cornered.” She jumped over the balcony, a fireball in one hand, and a bolt of lightning in the other.

She fried one of the thralls, and his screams echoed and amplified off the walls. She dodged a small breton vampire. She tossed the fireball toward the other thralls, hitting one and badly burning another.

A bolt flew past her head, embedding itself in the breton’s eye. Tolan ran after the vampire leader, the man that killed Adalvald before they could save him. Lokil taunted Tolan, leading him across a narrow bridge and deeper into the cavern.

Agmaer picked off the injured thrall, leaving Auerelie with the last one. The dark elf fought them viciously, flinging spells as quick as she could. Auerelie’s ward held, but it kept her pinned down.

When the ward started to flicker, Agmaer came up behind the vampire and took her head off her shoulders. The thrall dropped with a thud, her head slowly rolling away and leaving a thick trail of blood.

“Where’s Tolan?” Agmaer wiped the blood from his axe on his cloak.

“That idiot ran off.” She downed another potion. “Let’s go.”

 

*******

 

They ran across the bridge onto a massive circular platform covered in carvings and dotted with pedestals. Tolan was lying near the center. Lokil was dead beside him, warhammer still stuck in his chest. Agmaer dropped beside Tolan, eyes wide over the amount of blood pooling across the floor.

Before Agmaer could start digging for bandages, Tolan grabbed his arm with surprising strength. “Don’t. It’s a waste.”

Auerelie looked thunderous. “Saving your life isn’t a waste.”

Tolan laughed weakly. There were deep wounds across his chest, and on his back. “Some things go beyond healing magic.”

Auerelie froze at the words Taarana said to her months ago as she slowly died in the snow. “Stupid human.”

Tolan shifted slightly, revealing a gash along his neck, the edges black and the wound itself bubbling with puss. The veins around the wound were black as well and slowly spreading outward.

Auerelie felt as though she took a blow to the chest. She knew that wound, that poison slowly ebbing away life. “Agmaer,” she whispered, “you can’t. You… there’s…” She took in a gasping breath.

Tolan closed his eyes. “Don’t fret, lass. It’s alright.” He took a few weak breaths then slipped away.

Agmaer stood, his head hanging low. The sudden silence was deafening. He picked up his pack and started to turn to Auerelie. He bumped into one of the pedestals, and it shifted. The floor shook and purple flames sprung to life, trailing from the pedestal to the center of the platform.

“Is this what they were after?” Auerelie turned in circles a few times.

Agmaer frowned. “Maybe this reveals the artifact. It looks kinda like a puzzle.”

“Because we have time to go around solving ancient vampire puzzles.” Her expression twisted into something bitter and ugly. “What are we going to tell Isran? That we let Tolan die? That we couldn’t save the other one?”

Agmaer carefully took her arm. “Hey, we didn’t let anyone die. We fought. Tolan chose to fight.” He tried to give her a smile, but it was pretty weak. “This place is obviously important, so we have to find whatever it is they were looking for.”

Between the two of them shifting pedestals back and forth, it took nearly twenty minutes to find the right configuration. The floor shook then descended in the middle to reveal a stone monolith. Agmaer took a couple of steps down as the monolith spun three times then opened. He was just quick enough to catch the person that fell out of it.

Auerelie hurried to Agmaer’s side. The stranger jerked awake and stumbled back from them. Apparently, the vampire’s artifact was a tall, dark-haired nord woman. She looked at them, her eyes ruby-red and faintly glowing.

Auerelie yanked Agmaer back several steps, hissing, “Vampire.”

The woman blinked rapidly then stretched. After a moment, her attention turned to the Dawnguard. “Where…” She shook her head. “This is not what I expected. What’s happened?” Her voice was heavy and strangely accented.

Agmaer glanced between the two women. “Ah, who were you expecting exactly?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Someone like me.”

“Well, the only vampires around here are dead ones,” Auerelie replied, her hand resting on her sword.

Agmaer stepped between them. “What’s going on? And…” He started at the ornate metal tube strapped to the vampire’s back.

“That’s an Elder Scroll.” Bewildered, Auerelie demanded, “Why do _you_ have an Elder Scroll?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“It is when people have died for it.” She drew her blade.

“Auerelie, she’s the only vampire that hasn’t attacked us on sight. We should… you know, talk to her.” He did not relax his guard, but he introduced himself.

“I am Serana. Who’s your friend?”

“That’s Auerelie. We are both members of the Dawnguard.”

There was a long pause. “You’re vampire hunters?”

Agmaer nodded. “Why were you locked away in here?”

“That's... complicated. And I can’t trust you. Not now. But if you want to know the whole story... help me get back home.”

Auerelie scowled. “No. We deserve some damn answers.”

Serana took a couple of steps back. “Just… let me go home.”

“Auerelie--”

“Agmaer, we are not--”

“Where is home?”

Serana looked between the two of them, and she tried to gage exactly how much trust to extend. “My family used to live on an island off the northwestern coast. I would guess they still do.”

In the end, Auerelie and Agmaer decided it was best to keep Serana close. The vampire had an Elder Scroll, and they needed to know why. The trek back out of Dimhollow was quiet, the hunters still subdued over Tolan’s death.

The sun had set while they were underground, and Auerelie stared up at a cloudy sky. She hoped that there was not more snow on the way. Serana looked around almost in wonder, and Auerelie wondered how long she had been in that tomb.

“We’re splitting up once we get back to Nightgate Inn.”

Agmaer whipped around. “No! We’re not doing that.”

Auerelie sighed. “Yes, we are. I’m going with Serana, and you’re going back to Fort Dawnguard.”

“That’s too risky.

“Agmaer, you have to go back. You have to tell Isran what happened here. And, if I’m… delayed, you’ll know what happened.”

He shook his head.

“Well, we got about four days to argue about this. Let’s go.”

 

*******

 

Once they made it back to the inn, Agmaer checked on the horses, and Auerelie restocked their supplies. Serana seemed at loose ends. She was disoriented and homesick.

Agmaer saddled Frostmoth, making sure to tell her how much he missed her. They gave Serana Tolan’s paint horse.

“I still don't like this.”

“I know, Agmaer, but it's best this way. Promise me you'll be careful.”

He sighed. “Only if you promise to come back.”

“Auri-El as my witness, I will do everything I can to come back.”

He hugged her tightly before she could protest then stepped back. “Sky guard you and wind guide you.”


	8. Her Body Was a Specter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, no beta. There is also sexual content in this chapter, and it's sectioned off with a long row of stars if you want to skip it. Also how does one smut? Jeez, I rewrote this a dozen times.

Auerelie did not realized how hard it would be to separate from Agmaer until she watched him ride away. She stayed until she could no longer see him then swung herself up on her own horse.

It became immediately obvious that Serana was not an experienced rider. Tolan’s horse, Stuhn, would not take orders, and threatened to upend Serana when she pulled on the reins. “I don’t think he likes me.”

“Considering his former owner, that does not surprise me.” Auerelie brought Bear alongside Stuhn. “Give me the reins.” She pulled against Stuhn, bringing him to heel. With soothing sounds, she was able to get him to calm down.

“That’s… handy.” Serana held onto Stuhn’s mane to keep from falling off.

“I’ve always loved to ride.” She looked at the vampire, taking a moment to study her. Serana was a calm, level-headed woman, and those were traits Auerelie would never even consider a vampire to posses. She was beautiful and sad, and soft spoken. “We’ll keep the horses all the way to Solitude. About a week’s ride if we’re not delayed. Then we’ll be on foot.”

Serana nodded. “I’m following your lead.”

“How long were you buried in Dimhollow?”

“I… don’t know. What year is it?”

“Year 201 of the Fourth Era.”

Serana nearly fell over when she whipped around toward Auerelie. “Fourth Era?” Her voice was weak. “I was born during the sixth century of the Second Era.”

Auerelie stared at her for a long moment. “You…” She did a quick tally in her head. “You’ve missed about a thousand years.”

“How…” Serana rubbed her eyes as if that would change anything. “A… thousand… years.” She placed a hand over her mouth.

“No, no, no. Do not do that.” Auerelie tugged on Stuhn’s reins sharply to make him slow down. “I’m not dealing with a sick vampire.” She heaved a tremendous sigh. “Gods, maybe I should have sent you with Agmaer.”

Serana was shaking, her eyes closed tightly. “What’s… just tell me what’s happening now.”

“Well, Cyrodiil is clinging to what’s left of its empire, which used to cover the entirety of Tamriel. The provinces belonging to the argonians, dunmer, redguards, bosmer, altmer, and khajiit have all seceded from the empire.” Auerelie let Serana think on that for a moment. “My people and our bosmer cousins have allied to form the Third Aldmeri Dominion. Skyrim is rebelling over the treaty that ended the war between the Empire and the Dominion. Now, there are the stirrings of a civil war.”

“That’s… so much.” Serana shook her head. “Let’s just focus on this for now. Please.”

 

*******

 

During their trip to Dawnstar, Auerelie learned that Serana could be in sunlight, but it left her weak and heat-sick. Serana would leave on her own to go hunt, which they almost came to blows over until Serana admitted she was not taking blood from people but from large mammals. There were times when Aurerelie could almost forget that her current traveling companion was a vampire.

There were times she looked at Serana and hated. She thought about the three soldiers that were under her command. She thought about the two commanders that had survived so much. Occasionally, she would touch the faded scars now disappearing under her regrown hair. But Serana was difficult to lump in with the terrible creatures that preyed mercilessly on living people.

On the way to Morthal, they were ambushed by bandits. Their leader was a massive orc in steel-plate armor. A khajiit archer delivered the first strike, the arrow hitting Serana’s chest, only to fall uselessly to the ground. Her armor was of a make that Auerelie had never seen before and enchanted. It would take a lot more than an arrow.

Serana vaulted gracefully over her horse, tackling a small man in leather armor. He screamed when her teeth tore into his neck. That made the other bandits reel back, yelling ‘vampire’.

Auerelie sneaked around to flank the small group. By the time they realized they were there, one of the bandits stepped on her fire rune. He did not have time to scream before he burst into flames. She impaled another on bound spear.

One of the bandits was a mage, and Auerelie had to dodge powerful spells flung by a breton woman.

Auerelie shot out a bolt of lightning, splintering a tree.

She used a wall of flame against a funnel of cold.

It was difficult to keep track of the woman darting through the trees.

The orc leader sprung out of the foliage, swinging a greatsword that was nearly as long as she was tall. The tip of the blade cut through the front of her cloak.

He pressed his advantage, bringing his sword around in an arc. Auerelie met his blade with a spike of ice, which shattered on impact. She knew she was not strong enough to overpower him, but she could wear him down.

The orc laughed. “That’s all you got, elf.” Ice still clung to the blade. “Your kind are all flash and no fury.”

She held her own, cycling through spells in her head. He rushed forward, sword angled downward slightly to slide under her ribs. She moved in time for the blade to sink into the tree behind her.

She shot an orb of light in his face, blinding him. That was the opportunity she needed to wrap him in a chain of lightning. The steel-plate was an excellent conductor, and he screamed while being electrocuted to death.

The night was suddenly silent. Auerelie took in several gulps of air before remembering Serana. She whirled around, finding the vampire with her fangs buried in the breton mage’s neck and her glowing hand against her face. Serana drank deeply as her spell withered the mage.

Auerelie staggered back, her skin rapidly losing color. She could not breathe, her chest suddenly constricted. She imagined that she could feel the heat of the spell against her face, piercing claws, eyes glowing in the dark. Her vision blurred with tears. The snow slowly seeped through her clothing, and she did not realize that she was lying on the ground.

Something touched her shoulder. She turned, and Serana swam into view. “No!” She pushed her back with all her strength. “No!” She got to her knees, dizzy. “Where’s… Lady Taarana?!” She vomited in the snow.

 

*******

 

Auerelie awoke to music and laughter. She bolted upright only to feel lightheaded enough to lay back down.

“You’re awake. That’s good.” Serana appeared with a small basket. “I was starting to worry.”

“Where are we?” She slowly pushed herself up against the pillows.

“Four Shields tavern in Dragon Bridge.You were out of it for a while then I gave you a potion to make you sleep. It’s been almost two days.” Serana carefully placed the basket in Auerelie’s lap. It contained bread, fish, and leeks.

“The fight.” She rubbed her forehead. “What happened?”

“You passed out. Luckily, Bear is very fond of you. The other horse… not so much, but we made it here.”

Auerelie pushed her tangled hair back from her face. “I met Agmaer here. He took care of me, too… after an attack.” She picked at the crust on the bread.

Serana sat in the chair next to the bed. “I know we don’t really get along. I understand better now.” A sigh. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to attack you unless you attack me first. I promise.”

Auerelie only nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

 

*******

 

They stayed in Dragon Bridge for two days before leaving for Solitude. Auerelie was withdrawn, quiet, and listless. More than once Bear had to steer them back to the road. Serana was concerned, but she did not think that the elf wanted to hear it from her. The trip took less than a day, but Auerelie wanted to stay in Solitude for a few days to rest and resupply.

The city was still as quaint and pretty as it was the first time she visited. Serana appeared enthralled at the massive windmill on the highest tower. Solitude sat on a natural arch high above the Sea of Ghosts. The high walls kept out the worst of the wind coming off the ocean, but rain was frequent.

Serana took a room to sleep during the day while Auerelie walked the marketplace and shops. She remembered Sayma from Bits and Pieces, and the proprietor was as kind as she was generous. Auerelie felt a little overwhelmed and stayed when Sayma offered her tea.  She got almost all of her supplies from the shop, wanting to help as much as she could. And she almost gave in to the invitation for dinner, but there were other errands to take care of.

Radiant Raiment was a clothier shop that also sold enchanted garments and all manner of jewelry. It was owned by two altmer sisters, Endarie and Taarie. Auerelie felt absurdly grateful for the chance to be with her people and speak her language. She walked in on the sisters bickering.

“Sister dear, could you try sewing those sleeves a little tighter? We can’t have our customers looking sloppy because of your work.”

“Oh certainly, _dear sister_. We couldn’t afford to have our customers look like the simple pigs they are, now could we?”

“Good, while you’re at it, perhaps you should sew your mouth shut when our fine customers are within earshot, hmm?”

Taarie was the one to turn around and greet her, “Ah, a sister altmer… with… unfortunate clothing choices.”

That actually made Auerelie laugh. “I’m here to fix that. I need something durable enough for hard travel, and I wanted to discuss enchantments among other things.”

Endarie took her measurements and asked about the enchantments. Taarie was a gifted tailor and had the mind for business, but Endarie worked their enchantments and drew up the designs. Despite their snide comments toward each other, they worked very well together.

Auerelie showed them the golden shield-sun emblem of the Dawnguard, and that launched a discussion that lasted until it was time to close up the shop.

“Vampires?” Taarie frowned, leaning back from her work table.

Auerelie nodded. “It’s… good to be prepared. Be safe. I fight for the Dawnguard now, so all the living people in Skyrim are my responsibility, not just the Dominion or other altmer.”

“That’s commendable. I doubt you have many people jumping at the opportunity to join.”

“No, we don’t.” Auerelie toyed with the end of her braid. “But we are looking.”

Endarie poured them all more honeyed tea. “How did this get to be such a problem?”

“Don’t know.” She shrugged. “Maybe people just thought they were gone. There hasn’t been a vampire hunting faction in centuries. They would have had all that time to build up their numbers.”

“We heard, you know. About the Justiciars and the patrol attacked near the embassy.” Endarie shook her head, wisps of dark gold hair moving about her face. “There was a lot of fuss, but Elenwen wouldn’t hear it. She had to send Ondolemar to Markarth to keep him quiet.”

“She wouldn’t hear it from me either, and I was there.”

“You’re the survivor? There were rumors about that for months then nothing.” Endarie looked at her with an unreadable expression.

“Eventually, we just thought someone had made it up,” Taarie added.

“But you actually lived.”

“Barely,” Auerelie replied with a hint of bitterness.

They talked for awhile longer, long enough for Auerelie to actually stay for dinner. There were already designs for her clothing, but it would take some time to create. Taarie went to bed while Endarie and Auerelie talked about magic.

 

*******

 

“It is admirable, you know. What you are doing.” Endarie looked up from a tray of rings. “The rebellion and now this. As if there isn’t enough trouble in the world as it is.”

“How long have you been in Solitude?”

“Tarrie came here first, started the shop. I joined her two years later. That was… almost twenty years ago.”

“Do you miss it? The Isles?” She took a sip of floral tea. “Does it ever stop… hurting?”

Endarie looked at her, feeling the need to be careful. For a woman so used to speaking her mind, it was a challenge to stop and turn her words over beforehand. “I do miss it. I miss the sun and the fragrant air. I miss the beaches of white sand. Even now, it’s still odd to see faces not like mine, to listen to languages they are not my own.”

She set the tray of rings aside. “But I don’t regret leaving. I built a life here. I work for myself doing what I do best. There are… fewer expectations here. These nords are simple folk, but they value honesty and valor in all things. Find somewhere to lay down roots, and it will lessen the hurt.”

Auerelie thought of Fort Dawnguard and her sudden attachment. She had a home, and she had a cause. “I got discharged. That’s why no one knew what happened. I no longer served _their_ purpose.” It still hurt. “I was a tool that had been discarded once my usefulness ran its course. I am not a Thalmor soldier anymore. And I’m glad of it.”

Endarie laid a hand over hers.

“I was… _broken_ , and they couldn’t be bothered to help me pick up the pieces. I want to hate them, but that is such a heavy thing to carry around.” Auerelie looked down at their hands.

“Do not look troubled on my account. I stayed because I chose to.”

Endarie’s skin was a little darker than hers, a deep, rich ochre. Auerelie rubbed her finger against the inside of her wrist. “May I kiss you?”

Endarie took her face in her hands, and Auerelie trembled under that simple touch. Slowly, they brought their mouths together, just a chaste kiss. She buried her face in the crook of Endarie’s neck. “Please.”

 

*******************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Endarie’s room was located on the top floor and had a large window that overlooked a blooming garden. Everything was plush: the rugs, the curtains, the overstuffed chairs. It made her smile a little. The bed was sturdy, dark brown wood draped in green and gold.

Auerelie kissed her, warm and soft. Their lips moved together before briefly coming apart. Her hands slid along her sides, callouses catching on the fabric of her dress. Endarie was beautiful. Their mouths came together again, more ferverent this time.

Endarie’s hands twisted in the fabric of her shirt, pulling her closer. Auerelie slotted a leg between hers. For a while, it was a dance of lips, tongues, and hands. Endarie could feel her breathing hard, and the goosebumps that broke out along her arms. Her hands gently cradled her jaw, pulling back just enough to look at her.

Auerelie ran a thumb along her collarbone then across her mouth. Endarie caught her finger between her lips, letting her tongue wet just the tip. Auerelie had to kiss her once more, passionate but also desperate. Afterward, she could not get her clothes off fast enough.

Endarie stopped her and just held her for a moment. Auerelie looked over her shoulder, suddenly feeling lost. Endarie plucked the ties of her shirt, pulling every string free until it fell from her shoulders and pooled around her waist.

Auerelie’s body was a testament to the life of a warrior, all corded muscle and various scars. There was still softness there, around her stomach, her hips, her breasts. She smoothed her hands along her sides until her fingers hooked around her breast band. Endarie kissed her again, her tongue dipping past her lips.

Auerelie melted into her touch. Their lips pulled apart with a soft smack then she dove in again. She bit Endarie’s bottom lip just enough to sting. Caught up the feel of her mouth, and her fingers in her hair, she did not notice Endarie had removed the band until her thumbs moved across her nipples, which hardened almost immediately.

She gently pushed Auerelie down on the bed, and worked on peeling off the rest of her clothes. It was slow torture, Endarie stopping to kiss some part of her. She started to protest when Endarie sunk to her knees. “You don't have to…”

“Do you not want me to?” She dug her thumbs into the meat of her thighs.

“Yes,” she replied, feeling blood rush to her face.

“I very much want to.” Endarie planted hot, sucking kisses along her stomach, her lips stopping on every scar. She rubbed her fingers up her inner thighs then parted her legs further.

Auerelie nearly jerked out of her grip when Endarie stroked over her clit. She chuckled, holding Auerelie tighter with her free hand. She moved her finger up and down her slit until it parted and her finger slid inside. Auerelie threw her arm over her eyes, feeling over stimulated already.

Endarie kissed along the crease of her hip down to the inside of her legs. Her finger worked slowly inside Auerelie, rubbing until she was breathing hard. Endarie added another finger, moving rhythmically against her wet insides. She pushed her thumb against her clit, rubbing it in very slow circles.

Auerelie felt as though she were on fire. Sweat sprung up along her hairline and across her body. Her hips ground against her hand when Endarie started to work her fingers faster.

Endarie added a third finger, her fingers searching for that perfect spot. Auerelie used one hand to pinch her nipple, feeling small bursts of pleasure. Endarie found what she was looking for. “There”, Auerelie gasped. Endarie licked up the inside of her sex until she curled her tongue around her clit.

“Please, please. Right there. Right there.”

Endarie pressed against that spot, just working the tips of her fingers.

“Endarie!”

She licked up and down her clit occasionally stopping to suck bruises across her thighs.

Endarie could tell when Auerelie was close, and she moved her fingers faster. Auerelie had both her hands tangled in the blankets. Endarie changed the angle of her thrust slightly, letting the pads of her fingers rub over her pleasure spot. “Endarie, please. Please, it's so good. It feels so good,” she babbled, back arched and head thrown back.

Her climax was intense, her whole body twisting. Endarie continued to finger her through the aftershocks, her mouth over her clit. She did not let go until Auerelie said stop.

It took a few minutes for Auerelie to catch her breath. She spent that time curled up next to Endarie.

Auerelie kissed her fiercely, her teeth occasionally pulling on her lower lip. “It was so good,” she breathed against Endarie’s hair. “I want to make you come.” With one more kiss, she started to work Endarie out of her dress.

She left a trail of kisses across her shoulders and up the side of her neck. Endarie leaned into her touch. Auerelie began to move downward. She planted kisses across her breasts before taking a nipple into her mouth. She fingered Endarie’s other nipple until it was hard.

She kissed along her ribs and down her stomach. Auerelie gently rubbed the outside of Endarie’s sex. “What do you like best?” She nipped at the underside of her breast.

“Fingers,” she replied, breathless. Auerelie smiled and slowly pushed two fingers into her wet heat. She kissed up to her neck, her tongue dipping in her collarbone before capturing her mouth in a kiss.

Endarie rolled her hips against Auerelie’s hand, wanting more friction. She cried out when her thumb started rub circles around her clit. Auerelie continued to finger her until she tensed then let her go.

Before Endarie could protest, Auerelie slid three fingers inside her. Endarie buck up when she found the right spot. Auerelie brought her free hand to her nipple, gently rolling it between her fingers. She ran her tongue along the shell of Endarie’s ear.

With one hand between her legs, one on her breast, Auerelie bit down on the tip of her ear, and Endarie came with deep airy moans that Auerelie liked. She pushed her fingers just a bit deeper, her fingers stimulating the upper wall of her sex, just behind her clit. She rubbed it relentlessly, and Endarie thrashed, clawing at the blankets. Her hips jerked against her hand. And when Auerelie pressed her thumb up hard against her clit, and Endarie climaxed again.

Endarie ground her hips down as her gasps echoed around them. Auerelie tried as best she could to smother those sounds with kisses. She pull her fingers back, and used both hands to hold her hips down.

Eventually, they settled under the blankets for the night. They slept curled around each other.

 

*******************************************************************************************************************************************

 

If Taarie heard them last night, she gave no indication of it. They had breakfast, and sent Auerelie on her way with the promise of new robes in three day’s time.

She stopped in The Winking Skeever and found Serana in her room studying a current map of Tamriel.

“It’s all so different now.” Serana looked up at her. “What if the castle isn’t there anymore?”

Auerelie sat on the edge of the bed. “There's no way to know. If we get there and it's gone, we’ll figure out something.” She pushed her hair back from her face. “We should head out in about four days. I have to wait on my robes.”

Serana smiled slightly. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Were you always a vampire?”

She sighed. “That's... a very long story.”

“If you don’t mind telling it, I would like to hear it.”

“Do you know where vampirism came from?” Serana settled against the head of the bed, and Auerelie thought she look strangely vulnerable without her boots.

“One of the Daedric Lords, I imagine.”

“Yes. The first vampire came from Molag Bal. Lamae Bal... _was not_ a willing subject. But she was still the first. Molag Bal is a very powerful Daedric Lord, and he created the vampire to spite Arkay by disrupting the cycle of life and death.” She hesitated. “For those that subjugate themselves, he will still bestow the gift, but they must be powerful in their own right before earning his trust and power.

“How did you actually become a vampire, then?”

“The ceremony was... degrading. But it was… expected. Not really wholesome family activity, but I guess it's something you do when you give yourselves to a Daedric Lord.”

Auerelie pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging them tightly. “Do you… regret it?”

“I regret what it’s done to my family.” She leaned her head back against the wall. “I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to imagine being anything else. It’s been so long.” She glanced at her. “But what about you? Do you have any family?”

“I do. An aunt and an older brother. My aunt raised me. I do miss her so fiercely sometimes. She always gave the best advice.” Auerelie looked thoughtful for a moment. “My brother and I have a complicated relationship to be honest. We see each other every four or five years. He’s always been kind enough but distant in what little time we’ve spent together.” She gave Serana a strained smile. “Doesn’t really sound too good when I say it out loud.”

“What about Agmaer?”

“We are… working on being friends.” Her mouth twisted. “But that’s my fault.”

“How do you mean?”

“I grew up believing in elven superiority, and I let that color my view of the world. I was… I said some deeply hurtful things to him. It amazes me that he stayed.”

“He obviously saw something in you worth staying for.”

Auerelie dropped her head against her knees, hoping that Serana was right.

 

*******

 

Four days later, Auerelie showed up in Serana’s room wearing dark blue robes bearing the sun-shield emblem of the Dawnguard in red and gold. The magic woven into the fabric already felt comfortable and worn. She had Endarie to thank for that, and she had hugged her tightly and for a long time before leaving Radiant Raiment.

They left Solitude that night, ready to see what awaited them on the northern coast.


	9. Castle Volkihar and the Long Road

Auerelie hated leaving the horses behind, but there was too much wilderness for safe travel. Serana did not mind the cold, and she wondered if that was because she was a nord or a vampire. Maybe both.

It was rough going until they reached the coast and followed it west. Auerelie learned that horkers were very temperamental. Serana tried to smother her laughter against the hood of her cloak until she tripped over a mudcrab.

Still some miles out, Serana pointed out shrouded spires. “Castle Volkihar.”

“We can get there before the sun rises again, if we hurry.”

 

*******

 

There was a small, rickety boat tied to a rotting pier already falling partly into the sea. Auerelie’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “This wouldn't carry one of us, let alone both of us.”

Serana shook her head. “It’s supposed to look like that. Come on.” She climbed into the little boat first and rocked a bit to show that it was fine. After some hesitation, Auerelie joined her, half expecting to fall in the water.

Once they were seated, the boat started to move in its own, and that is when Auerelie realized that there were no oars. She clung to the sides, eyes wide. Serana patted her knee comfortingly.

They reached the shore just as the first light of day started to spill over the horizon. “Just let me take the lead from here. It's best if I do all the talking.”

Auerelie nodded then let Serana pass her. They walked up a steep ramp up to a large closed gate. There was an elderly man standing just inside. He squinted at them then his mouth fell open in surprise. The gate screeched loudly as it was pulled up.

Serana led them inside the castle, where they met an altmer vampire. “Who…” He took a couple of steps forward. “Lady Serana, it’s you. I can't believe it.” He gaze shifted to Auerelie, staring at her until she started to fidget and had to look away.

He announced them immediately, and Auerelie reminded herself that Serana was something like a friend. They descended a long flight of stairs into a grand hall. It was beautiful, brightly lit with exquisite glass lanterns. There were also about a dozen vampires watching them.

A man stepped forward. “My long-lost daughter returns at last. I trust you have my Elder Scroll?”

  
Serana’s expression fell. “After all these years, that's the first thing you ask me? And yes, I have the scroll.”

“Of course I'm delighted to see you, my daughter. Must I really say the words aloud?” He spread his arms outward as if to embrace Serana. “Ah, if only your wretch of a mother were here. I would let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a spike.” His bright gaze fell on Auerelie, and she fought the urge to run. “Now tell me, who is this mortal you have brought into my hall?”

Serana glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and smiled. “She is the one that freed me and got me here. She is my savior.”

“Step forward.”

It took Serana nudging her to make her feet move.

“For my daughter's safe return, you have my gratitude. Tell me, what is your name, child?” He touched the side of her face.

Though he was shorter than her, Auerelie had never felt so small. She wanted to shrink into herself. “My name is Auerelie,” she replied, her voice not as steady as she hoped.

“I am Harkon, lord of this court. By now, you should know what we are.”

“Vampires,” she whispered.

Harkon laughed, showing off large fangs. “Yes, vampires. But not just any vampires. We are among the oldest and most powerful vampires in Tamriel.”

Auerelie did not notice how close Serana had come until she gently squeezed her wrist. It grounded her a bit. “What happens next?”

“Ah, you are rewarded, of course. There is but one gift I can give that is equal in value to the Elder Scroll and my daughter.” His smile made her step back. “I offer you my blood. Take it, and you will walk as a lion among sheep. Men will tremble at your approach, and you will  _ never _ fear death again.”

Auerelie’s body turned cold. She stared at Harkon wide-eyed and afraid.

The altmer vampire from before moved to Harkon’s side. “My lord, if this generous gift does not entice her, perhaps she would wish to become my bride.” He looked her over, and Auerelie’s skin crawled in disgust.

“Vingalmo, I can see why you would be interested in this sweet morsel. She is most pleasing to look upon.”

“What happens if I refuse?”

“Then you will be prey, like all mortals. I will spare your life this once, but you will be banished from this hall forever. Perhaps you still need convincing?” Harkon took a few steps backward and started to shake. He transformed into a winged beast. “Behold the power! This is the power that I offer!”

Auerelie swallowed down a scream of terror. It took Serana holding onto her arm to keep from running. Shaking her head, her voice cracked as she refused.

“Then be gone, mortal.” He held up his hand and an orb of purplish light appeared. Serana started to intervene, but it was too late. Auerelie felt like she was falling through darkness.

She woke upon impact. It took a few minutes for her limbs to stop feeling simultaneously like lead and netch jelly. Harkon sent her back across the sea, and now she stood on the shore, disoriented. She thought about going back for Serana but the boat was gone, and there was no way she would survive swimming through the icy waves.

She staggered away, not entirely sure where she was going at this point. There was a soft hum that slowly turning into ringing. Auerelie dropped on a rock next to a nirnroot. She watched the leaves glow and chime, and she touched it carefully with a weak smile.

 

*******

 

Auerelie did not realize that she had closed her eyes until someone shook her shoulder. She jerked awake, and would have fallen over without the firm grip. She looked up into the face of a Thalmor soldier. It was a patrol of four. They stared at her, but she could not find her words.

“Are you lost, sister?” The leader was an older woman with heavy streaks of silver through red hair.

All she could do was nod. Two of her fellow altmer helped her to her feet, supporting her between them. Their leader pointed southward. “Just over that rise is Northwatch Keep.”

“The prison, “ she murmured. “I… have never been there.” She tried to stand on her own, but her legs still were not ready.

The soldiers continued on their way, mindful of Auerelie’s slower pace. It did not take long for the fort to come into view. She let herself disengage from the world.

 

*******

 

Captain Eariion was in charge of Nightwatch Keep. He was unusually short for an altmer, and his skill in battle had won him a lot of respect throughout the Dominion. He sat across from Auerelie, fixing tea with long, scarred fingers. He had a stern countenance, but smiled when she gave him her name.

“I know who you are. Ondolemar spoke of you when I saw him off to Markarth.” He added a bit of cinnamon to his tea, and the scent made her homesick. “We have noticed an increase in vampire activity since then.”

“Yes, I left almost seven months ago.”

He shook his head. “You were discharged. There is a difference.”

“Is there?” She frowned, trying to moderate her tone. “The moment I mentioned vampires, I was treated like I was insane. It doesn’t matter how it is phrased.”

Eariion was quiet for a moment, taking time to drink a little of his tea. “I know you feel like we abandoned you. Ondolemar thought he was doing you a favor, sending you home.” He gestured to her robes. “But now I see you wear a different crest. Tell me.”

“The Dawnguard,” she answered, back straight and with a defiant tilt of her head. “An ancient order of vampire hunters reborn.”

“You stayed to fight.” Eariion laughed softly. “And I damn respect you for it. You can call on me if there’s ever a need. Elenwen be damned. She hates Skyrim, and I can’t blame her, but we fucking live here, too. A few weeks after you left, another patrol was attacked on the road to Rorikstead. All dead.”

“I am… surprised to be honest. About your offer of help.” Auerelie took a sip of her own tea, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I do not fight for the Dominion anymore. No matter how I feel about other races, I fight for them, too. Plenty of Thalmor won’t feel that way.”

Eariion nodded. “I know. But this isn’t the Isles, and we’re not currently engaged in full-scale war. We talk about protecting elven interests. This counts. Until we pull out of the this frozen Oblivion, I have to care about this.”

“Alright. Just… don’t expect me to comprise the Dawnguard.” She looked at him straight on, her face hard. “I will not. And I’m telling you this upfront. If a member of the Aldmeri Dominion attacks a member of the Dawnguard, regardless of race or creed, I will withdraw all support, and you can fight the bloody vampires on your own.”

Eariion stood, holding his hand out to her. Auerelie stood and clasped his arm tightly.

 

*******

 

Auerelie stayed for two days before leaving for Fort Dawnguard. She had a long, long way to go, and without Agmaer or even Serana, it already felt terribly lonely. She decided that she would visit all the major settlements along the way. There had to be others willing to join the fight.

She found her first recruit in the little village of Rorikstead.

Frostfruit Inn was an old, worn building but, it was clean, dry, and warm, and that is all Auerelie could really ask for. She smoothed her hands over her robes, and pushed her wind-tangled hair back behind her pointed ears.

“If you need a meal or a bed, I got both.”

She looked over at the middle-aged nord behind the counter, and he watched her closely as she approached.

“That looks like some of those robes mages wear. A bit of advice, folks around here don’t care for magic or those that use it.”

Auerelie snorted. “Duly noted. Are you still going to rent me a room?”

“Aye,” he grunted. “Name’s Mralki, and I own the inn. What’re you needing, lass?”

“Bed for the night, dinner tonight, breakfast tomorrow.” She dug around in her pouch for coin.

She sat close to the fire while she ate, and did appreciate that most of her food was vegetables and bread. This inn had no bard and for that she was absurdly grateful.

She nearly spilled an entire tankard of sweetened juniper berry water when a young man dropped down on the bench next to her.

“Hey, you’re new.” He flashed her a grin that lit up his entire being though part of that might have come from the extremely red hair. “My name’s Erik.”

Divines save her from fresh-faced, wide-eyed, young nord men. “Just here for the night. I am Auerelie.” She picked at her bread, telling herself to be nice. “You live here, I assume.”

“Born and raised right here in Rorikstead. My father was a soldier. He fought in the Great War and when it was over, he retired here to raise a family. My mother passed away when I was just a babe, so he did his best to raise me on his own. It's not the most exciting place in the world, but the people here work hard and don't cause trouble for anyone.” He reached over and refilled her cup. “But you look like you’ve had lots of adventures. I envy you that.” He sighed.

“Thank you.” She took a drink. “And I would not envy my particular adventure.”

“I want to be an adventurer like you, but my father says I can’t. He says he needs me to stay here and work the farm, and even if he did let me go, I couldn’t afford the armor.”

“It is a very dangerous life. A lot of adventurers do not live to see old age.” She thought about Soriss.

“What do you do? I’ve never seen that symbol before.” He gestured to her robes.

“I am a member of the Dawnguard, a faction that hunts vampires and investigates potential vampire activity.”

Erik looked at her in stunned awe. “Wow! Are there a lot of you?”

Auerelie shook her head. “Just a handful for now.”

“Then you’re looking for people to join, right? I mean, Skyrim’s a big place, so it would take a bunch of people helping out.”

She turned around in her seat, and for the first time, looked Erik in the eye. “I do not think you know what you are asking. If you are itching to get out of this village, try the Companions or the army. This isn’t a life for most people.”

“What if I’m not most people?”

“You don’t have armor. Do you have a weapon? Can you fight? Would you be able to protect others?”

“I’m a pretty good swordsman, and I have a fine steel blade. I don’t have a lot of fighting experience, yet. But I’m a fast learner.”

“And what would I tell your father if you got killed? What could I possibly say to a man burying his child?”

Erik hung his head, and Auerelie thought she had finally gotten through to him. “Staying on the farm isn’t protection. I could die just as easily here as out there.”

“What if I say ‘no’?”

He frowned. “Then… then, I’ll go adventuring on my own.”

Auerelie pinched the bridge of her nose. “You mean go get killed on your own.” She sighed. “Your father…”

“Oh, Mralki. He owns the inn.”

“Oh,  _ delightful _ .” She sighed deeply. “If, I mean if, you can convince your father, I’ll take you with me as a recruit. I will also pay for your armor.”

Erik slapped his hand down on the table with an enormous grin. “Thank you. I’ll talk to him later tonight.” He jumped up, kissed her cheek then ran off.

 

*******

 

Mralki was waiting on her when she left her room the next morning. He looked worn down, and she knew that she was responsible. “Elf… lass, come talk with me a minute.”

Auerelie moved to stand next to him.

“Erik, he wants to join your… Dawnguard. I want my son safe, but that’s not the life he wants. I just need you to tell me one thing, will you make sure he’s alright?”

“I can’t promise nothing will happen to him. This is dangerous, and he knows that. But I can promise that he will be well-trained, that he will have brothers-and-sisters-in-arms to watch out for him. That’s the best I can do.”

Mralki nodded. “That’s better than I was expecting. You’ll let him come visit every now and again, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Auerelie felt bad for the man, but Erik was going to run off with or without his consent. This way, there were people to count on.

Auerelie delayed her leaving long enough for Erik to pack a travel bag and say goodbye to his father. Mralki tried to give her gold, but she refused, reminding him that she would supply Erik until they got to Fort Dawnguard.

 

*******

 

Erik was a cheerful companion and full of questions. It reminded Auerelie a bit of Agmaer. And Erik was a quick learner. As they traveled, she practiced sword fighting with him. He was also handy with a smaller blade. They traveled hard until they reached Whiterun.

The city of Whiterun was beautiful in a rustic sort of way. The land was lush and bright, and Auerelie liked to walk by the streams. Erik looked blown away over the towering walls around the city. There was a steady stream of people, mostly farmers walking the main road.

Erik frowned a bit as they started through the gates. “Why are they looking at you like that?”

Without a pause, she answered, “Because I am an altmer.” There was a blacksmith’s shop nearby, and she stopped for a moment to watch a tall imperial woman hammer a sword into shape. “We’ll get you fitted there.” She pointed.

Before Erik could start with another round of questions, Auerelie hustled him over to the forge. She left him in Adrianne Avenicci’s capable hands while she went to resupply and get a bit of peace.

She spent too much time and energy haggling with a merchant named Belethor. She bought a good stock of dried meat from a bosmer hunter in the market square, and then ducked into The Drunken Huntsman to look at weapons.

That is where Erik found her since it was just across the street from Adrianne’s shop. Auerelie was talking to the owner, Elrindir, in rapid Bosmeris. Erik let them talk as he wandered around the shop. He admired finely crafted bows and pieces of leather armor.

In the corner, a dark elf woman was working on fletching arrows. Erik watched her, mesmerized by her deft, graceful fingers. His eyes were tracing the gold warpaint along the contours of her face, when she spoke. “Is there something I can help you with, human?”

Erik coughed nervously when she looked up at him with eyes a hundred shades of red. “Oh, um, it’s just you’re really good at that. I can shoot an arrow pretty well but not make them.”

“Is that so?” She had a pleasing, husky voice.

“I mean I don’t do so well with whole… making weapons stuff. One time I almost cut off my own finger trying to sharpen a blade. Ugh, I hate blood.”

She laughed, the sound filling the room. This attracted Auerelie’s attention. If the dunmer was laughing, Auerelie figured he could not have messed up too badly. “Erik?”

He gave her a helpless look.

“Hello,  _ sera _ .” The dark elf leaned back in her seat, looking up at Auerelie. “I assume this belongs to you.”

“He is my recruit.” Auerelie’s mouth curved into a smile. “A capable one, if a bit… unseasoned.”

“Oh, I’m Erik, by the way.” He tilted his head toward his companion. “That’s Auerelie.” Her name sounded strange wrapped around his accent.

“I am called Jenassa.” Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “Death is my art, and like all artists, I seek a patron.”

“You’re a mercenary?” She sounded interested.

“I am a lethal instrument, yours to command for a modest sum. I will follow you into any danger. I suggest you hire me before one of your enemies does.”

“What about a cause? Will you fight for that.”

Jenassa tapped one of her arrows against the table. “For the right price, I will fight for whatever you wish.”

Auerelie took a seat across from her. “Then, let you and I speak.”

 

*******

 

Auerelie left Whiterun with Erik wearing a full set of leather armor and Jenassa willing to fight for the Dawnguard.

She was not entirely sure how the two recruits would get along, but it appeared to be working out. Jenassa was a master archer, and she did not mind teaching Erik to improve his aim. Actually, she seemed amused by the over eager young nord.

Their next stop was Ivarstead, but it was a long way off.

Like Agmaer, Erik knew a lot about the land and how to hunt and fish. Jenassa was an excellent tracker, and that kept them fed.

The trip was uneventful until they reached Hillgrund’s Tomb. Jenassa was on watch when they were ambushed by vampires. There were four of them, wearing the style of armor favored by the vampires in Volkihar Keep.

Jenassa rolled out of the way of a blast of ice. She jumped to her feet, drawing her bow.

Erik drew his sword, eyes wide, but the set of his jaw was determined. One of the vampires attacked Erik head on, thinking he was easy prey. He was quicker than he looked, and left a deep gash up the vampire’s arm. She hissed at him loudly then summoned a bound sword in each hand.

The vampire was slower with her injured arm, but she still had enough strength to push Erik back.

“I'll drink you dry, mortal!” She jump, spinning the swords in wide arcs.

Erik managed to parry the blows, but just barely. He had never seen anyone move so fast. When she came at him again, he met the sword in her injured hand, with all his might, and it shattered the spell.

“You dare!” She bared her fangs at him. In a swirl of mist, she vanished.

Erik held his sword ready, eyes darting back and forth. He moved, but was not quite quick enough when she appeared, blade sinking into a gap his armor at the shoulder. He stumbled back, gritting his teeth in pain.

She circled him. “Stop struggling. I'll give you a swift and beautiful death.” She rushed at him, and he waited until the last second to move. He spun around, bringing his sword from overhead.

The vampire looked shocked when the blade cleaved into her neck. Erik jerked his weapon back with a wet squelch then ran her through.

Jenassa dodged the vampire flitting in and out of the shadows. She fell back, nestling herself behind low hanging branches.

She breathed in. “Nerevar guide me.”

She let the arrow go, and it whizzed past Auerelie and found its mark. The vampire dropped to his knees, blood oozing around the arrow sticking out of his eye.

Auerelie flung out a jolt of lightning, missing the vampire. She could barely make out the shadow of her opponent as she started to weave another spell. She waited, building the magicka between her hands.

From a burst of mist, the vampire leapt for her, and Auerelie let her spell go. An explosion of fire engulfed the vampire, incinerating him.

Once the flames died down, Auerelie turned to find her partners. Ignoring how bad her hands were shaking, she rushed to Erik. He was already being fussed at and tended to by Jenassa. The wound was not too bad, and Auerelie used a weak healing spell to speed recovery along. “I wish I could do more, but restoration magic is not a talent of mine.”

She had to sit down before her legs gave out. The spell depleted her magical energy. She watched as Jenassa tightly bandaged his shoulder. “You fought well. You both did. It’s only more vampires from here on out though.” She took in a shuddering breath. “I won’t blame you if you back out right now.”

Jenassa shook her head. “Don’t be foolish.” She poked Erik in the side. “But you, be still.”

“That was an amazing spell.” Erik gave her a pained smile. “Where did you learn to set stuff on fire?”

Auerelie let out an amused huff. “The city of Lillandril, in the Summerset Isles.” It took a few tries, but she got to her feet. “Need more practice. Get some rest, we will move out when everyone is feeling up to it.”

 

*******

 

Ivarstead was a picturesque village sitting on the shore of Darkwater River. They stayed there for a few days before moving on to Riften. It was their longest stretch without stopping in a settlement, and it took them almost three days.

Jenassa and Erik voted that they stay the night in Riften before going to Fort Dawnguard. Auerelie did not have it in her to fight them on this. The Bee and Barb was as noisy as she remembered, and she did not care.

 

*******

 

They approached the fort early in the afternoon, and Erik’s stunned wonder at the size of it rivaled Agmaer’s. Jenassa was amused, but she too, found it impressive.

Auerelie had not seen Fort Dawnguard in two months. She could see where repairs had been made. She noted a completed stable on her way up the main road, and with a pang, she realized that in her haze after Castle Volkihar, she forgot the horses. She owed Katla a long letter and a lot of gold.

Ingjard met them at the entrance. “Gods, Agmaer will be glad to see you.” She clapped Auerelie on the shoulder. “Good to have you back.”

Auerelie lead them into the fort proper. The interior had changed a lot while she was away. She could hear talking and laughing from the dining hall.

“We’ve been waiting on you.” She whirled around at Isran’s voice, and she was glad to see him, gruffness and all. “And you brought recruits?” He eyed Jenassa and Erik. “Let Celann get them settled in.”

Isran obviously had something to discuss with her and wanted her to follow him up to his study. Before they could leave, a blond blur shot past Isran and latched onto Auerelie. She tensed, pulling at her magicka then she realized it was Agmaer. He hugged her tightly. “Thank the Gods.” He pulled back, smiling up at her. It was bright enough to hurt.

Something eased in her chest at the sight of him. She reached out and gently carded her fingers through his pale hair. Her thumb swiped across his cheekbone. “Agmaer, you look well.”

Blood rushed to his face. “Yeah, well, I’ve done a lot while you were away.”

Isran cleared his throat. “If you two are quite finished.”

Agmaer sighed. “Sorry.” He touched Auerelie’s arm. “Later?”

“That one has the enthusiasm,” Isran remarked wearily as he started toward the winding staircase.

Auerelie laughed softly. “Yes, he does. I am… glad to see it undiminished.”

Isran led her deeper into the fort, taking her through hallways she did not remember. When she thought that she could not get anymore lost, Isran stopped at a plain door that looked like every other door in the keep.

Auerelie stepped into the room, wanting nothing more than a hot bath and to sleep for at least a week. Sitting at the table was a familiar face.

Serana stood with a smile. “You probably weren't expecting to ever see me again.”


	10. Dream of Ruunvald

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill--no beta. Feel free to point out mistakes.

“Serana?”   
  
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Yeah. It's good to see you again." Her smile quickly fell. "I'm sorry about what happened at the keep."   
  
"If you are done making nice with it, let's get down to business. This vampire showed up while you were away. According to Amgaer, it's the one you found in Dimhollow Crypt."   
  
Auerelie sighed heavily. "Isran..."   
  
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill this bloodsucking fiend right now." He itched to draw his warhammer. He imagined crushing Serana's skull with it.   
  
"As you can see here, your friend isn't too pleased with me showing up here." Serana edged away from Isran, determined to play nice for now. "This only reason he hasn't tried to kill me is because I asked for you. By name."   
  
She rubbed her forehead, feeling a painful pressure building behind her eyes. "I literally just walked through the gates. I'm still holding my bloody travel bag." She dropped that at her feet. "Can we... please just sit down. It's been a very long two months."   
  
Isran grunted but took a seat at the small table. Serana pulled her chair around to sit next to Auerelie.   
  
"Serana, why are you here?" She shed her cloak over the back of her chair. "You knew coming here was dangerous."   
  
"I know, but it's about the Elder Scroll that was buried with me. It's... important, and the Dawnguard are probably the only ones that can help." She laid the scroll on the table.   
  
Isran crossed his arms. "Is there a point somewhere in all this?"   
  
"Yes. My father has become obsessed with an ancient prophecy. It's supposed to be written in the scroll."   
  
"What sort of prophecy?" Auerelie felt like her day was going to get a lot longer.   
  
"One that will end the 'tyranny of the sun'. At least, that's what he claims. It's insufferably vague like all prophecies." Serana tapped a long nail against the handle of the scroll. "He wants to control the sun."   
  
"That can be done?" Auerelie leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Seriously?"   
  
"I... guess so. He thinks that he can put out the eye of Magnus." Serana looked troubled and uncomfortable at the idea. “And what matters is that he thinks it can be done, so he’ll destroy anything that gets in his way.” Serana included, but she could not make herself say it.   
  
"Thought that would be something you’d want, vampire." Isran eyed her warily, fingers still itching for his weapon.   
  
Serana frowned. "Well, it's not."   
  
"So, he needs to find out how to fulfill the prophecy?" Auerelie looked between the two of them. "Well, he can't read the scroll. No one can except moth priests. Step number one, I guess." She sounded worn out.   
  
"Where would we even find a moth priest?"   
  
Isran grunted. "It won't be easy. They don't just appear out of thin air." He sighed. "There are very few priests of that order left in the world. It's a wild chase."   
  
"Well, that means my father is on the same chase. He'll have just as hard of a time finding one."   
  
"I can't make this a priority. There were two vampire attacks while you were gone. I should have known it was only a matter of time before they found us." He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. "It's the price we pay for openly recruiting. We'll have to step up our defenses."   
  
"Then just give it to me. I have a few contacts, and they can keep an eye out for a moth priest." Auerelie leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. "I'm sure you have assignments to hand out, and I brought you two recruits. They'll do good. Already vampire tested."   
  
Isran made a displeased noise deep in his throat. "Fine." He pointed to Serana. "Don't feel like a guest, because you're not. You're a resource. An asset. A tool. In the meantime, don't make me regret my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity."   
  
Serana bared her teeth at him. "I'll remember that the next time I'm feeling hungry."   
  
"Try it, vampire. You step outta line, your friend here pays the price." He looked at Auerelie. "Remember this thing is your responsibility."   
  
She snorted loudly. "Fine. Gut me."   
  
"No one's gutting anybody." Serana scoffed. "You think I'd be the one with bloodlust."   
  
Auerelie rubbed her eyes. "Yeah, right. Sorry."   
  
Isran's expression soften fractionally. "Get some rest. We'll talk later."

  
  
*******

  
Isran wanted to put Serana out, but Auerelie refused and let her have the room next to hers. There were new members that she needed to meet, facilities to see, and research to do, but she decided that all of that could wait until the next day.   
  
Bathed, fed, warm, and drifting off to sleep, she nearly threw a fireball at the door when someone decided to knock. True, it was barely sunset, but she just wanted to rest. With a groan of frustration, she got up and threw the door open, ready to murder.   
  
It was Agmaer, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when the door hit the wall. "This... is a bad time, isn't it?"   
  
She rubbed her eyes and said a short prayer in her native language.   
  
He backed away. "I can come back."   
  
"Just... get in here." She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. The door clicked softly behind them.   
  
Her room was lit by a single lantern burning low. Agmaer could really only see the outline of her or the gold of her skin when the light hit her just right. "What's going on? Has Isran tried to kill Serana yet?"   
  
"Not that I know of. Everyone's avoiding her, to be honest." He watched her drop onto the bed. "I really can just come back."   
  
"No, it's fine. I did not realize how worn and sore I felt until I just... stopped. There's so much to do."   
  
Agmaer gingerly sat down next to her. "Yeah, but there's more help now. I met Erik and Jenassa."   
  
"Oh?"   
  
"Erik and I already struck up a friendship." That did not surprise Auerelie in the slightest. "Jenassa is terrifying...  _ and _ amazing." He smiled at her. "I'm glad you weren't alone the whole time. I know you haven't met any of the new people yet, but I think you'll like Sorine Jurard. She's wicked smart. She's already working on a new crossbow design, and promised I get the first one she finishes."   
  
Auerelie laid down, sinking heavily in her bed. Her legs ended up across Agmaer's lap. "Tell me about them." She let the sound of his voice wash over her, a familiar, soothing rhythm. He pushed back across the bed to lean against the wall. He told her about his hunt for and with Gunmar. He talked about meeting Tilde and Vori, twin warriors that did not look alike and could probably drink anyone under the table.   
  
He took one of her feet into his hands, and started to rub his thumb up and down her instep. Auerelie made an embarrassing noise, but she did not stop him. He pitched his voice lower and told her about renovations to the fort, and his misadventures in hunting with Frostmoth. He started on her other foot, and she drifted off to sleep before he finished a story about Bran and Sceolang chasing rabbits, and knocking Celann into the lake.   
  
***   
Auerelie did not know that Agmaer told everyone not to disturb her, so she slept past midday. She was not sure what to expect, making her way past towers of crates and piles of construction materials. Everyone looked so busy, and she wondered where Serana had disappeared off to. She would not blame the vampire avoiding everyone.   
  
She followed the sound of laughter and dishes rattling down to the dining hall. Erik was telling a story about a fishing trip gone horribly and hilariously awry. Jenassa sat beside him, fighting a smile. Most of the talking stopped when Agmaer noticed her. "Hey! You're up."   
  
She let him guide her around the table, and introduced her to a tall burly nord named Gunmar. He shook her hand too hard, but she could appreciate the kind gesture. "Heard a lot about you, lass." His voice carried far above everyone else's. "Always glad to meet someone taking the fight to those bloodsucking bastards."   
  
Auerelie nodded. "I've heard a little about you are well. Bear hunting?"   
  
Gunmar grinned. "Aye! And it was damn good fight. The lad here has a good arm."   
  
"He does," she agreed mildly, her mouth quirked in amusement. "Has anyone seen Serana?"   
  
The immediate reaction was subdued. After a moment, Agmaer spoke up, "I think she's in the dungeon." Auerelie's mouth tightened into a hard line. "No, not locked up," he added hastily. "Just... wanted to be left alone."

  
  
*******

  
Serana had set up a nice little niche in the dungeon. She used crates to cordon off some space, which she decorated with a nest of pillows and a few lanterns. There were a couple stacks of books, and some random odds and ends. She was currently bent over a book about native flora.   
  
"You are... alright down here?"   
  
Serana's eyes gleamed in the low light. "Fine. Just... everyone staring daggers at you gets old after a while."   
  
Auerelie huffed. "Believe me, I know." She gestured toward the floor, and Serana moved over to give her enough room to sit down. "Don't know if you have figured it out yet, but most everyone hates elves these days."   
  
"I read a bit about the war. You won."   
  
Auerelie's smile was strained. "This doesn't feel like winning."   
  
Serana nodded slightly. "I can understand that." She closed her book and set it on top of the nearest stack. "So, a moth priest?"   
  
"There aren't very many around." She sighed heavily. "It was never a large order, but a lot of them were killed in the war during the occupation of the Imperial City. It might seem odd, but I... I believe in the Divines, pray to them. Truely. I can't imagine killing a priest, even one presented as an enemy. That probably sounds very stupid."   
  
Serana shook her head. “It doesn’t. But coming from someone that worshiped Daedra, that probably doesn’t mean very much. Honestly, I wouldn’t even know where to begin this search.”   
  
Auerelie shrugged. “Me either. A long time ago they had a temple in Cyrodiil, but now…”   
  
“We’ll figure something out.”

  
  
*******

  
Auerelie met Sorine Jurard in the keep’s forge. She wanted to take a look at the crossbows Agmaer could not stop talking about. Sorine was more than happy to walk Auerelie through her new crossbow designs.   
  
Sorine watched Auerelie as she studied a old, crumbling schematic for gears. She seemed quiet and a bit humorless, but Agmaer could not stop talking about her. It was weird to see a nord so enthralled by an elf. Auerelie was an intelligent woman, pointing out possible constructions, asking questions.   
  
“You’ve met Gunmar, right?”   
  
Auerelie looked down at her. “I have.”   
  
Sorine motioned her over to a nearby table to sit. “Well, we’ve been talking. We both realized that if Isran's even allowed us in here, this place only half finished, he must be really concerned. And if he's that concerned, the situation must be pretty bad. Make sense?"   
  
She nodded, thinking that Isran was more dour than most dunmer she’s met.   
  
“These vampires are a new threat, and a truly deadly one. Gunmar and I agree that we're going to need Florentius to help. We have a lot of work to do here, so we were hoping that maybe you could track him down.” Sorine winced at Auerelie expectant, unamused expression.   
  
“And who is this man?”   
  
“He's a priest of Arkay. Well, he was. It's... it's complicated. He's a little eccentric, but we can trust him, and we could definitely use his skills. Especially his Restoration skills.”   
  
“You want me to hunt down a priest?”   
  
“It’ll be a bit of a hunt, yes. We haven’t seen him in years. I think he had regular contact with the Vigilants, and I  _ know _ Isran kept track of them…” She sighed. “So maybe you could ask Isran if he knows anything? Just keep in mind that he... well, he might not like the idea.”   
  
“I don’t think Isran’s ever met an idea that he likes.”   
  
“Just ask Isran. Please. The two of them have never gotten along, but this is bigger than the bad blood between them.”   
  
“Fine. I’m on thin ice with him anyway over Serana.”

  
  
*******

  
“Who in Oblivion said something? Sorine or Gunmar? I thought they'd have learned their lesson by now. I don't trust that man, and I don't want him here.” Isran glowered at her.   
  
Auerelie sighed. “That’s all well and good, but this is obviously important, and we could use all the help we can get.”   
  
“Stendarr, save me.” He shook his head. “Last I'd heard of him, he was aiding the Vigilants of Stendarr at Ruunvald. He may still be there. If he can maintain some appearance of normalcy, I'll allow him to stay.”   
  
“Alright. I’ll leave tomorrow, and I’ll take Serana and Agmaer with me.” She smirked. “That might cut down on some of those frown lines.”   
  
Isran huffed before walking away.

  
  
*******

****  
“So we’re looking for a different type of priest now.” Agmaer looked up from the bag he was packing.  
  
“It would seem so. Ruunvald is actually not that far away according to the map. Two days.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “We’re looking for a man named Florentius Baenius, and apparently he and Isran are not friends.”  
  
Agmaer looked like he had a comment about that. Auerelie laughed, and he realized that he had not heard that sound in months.  
  
“Serana will be joining us. I’m not entirely sure I trust Isran to not drive a stake through her heart while we’re gone.” She rubbed her eyes, still looking worn.  
  
“Auerelie, are you okay?” He touched her elbow, a gentle command for her to turn toward him.  
  
“Of course.” Her attempted smile faltered.  
  
He hesitated then cradled her face in his hands, looking up at her with those pale blue eyes that reminded her so much of the sky. “Hey,” he whispered, “It’s alright if you’re not feeling well.”  
  
Her eyes closed. “We have so much to do.”  
  
“I know, but it’s not just us anymore.” His thumbs swiped across her cheeks. “I’m really glad you’re back.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
***  
They reached Ruunvald in good time. Agmaer seemed to warmed up to Serana, and their conversations were pleasant background noise. Auerelie was mostly quiet, and she often walked ahead of the pair to scout ahead. She was getting better at this nature stuff.  
  
There was an old campsite around the entrance to Ruunvald, and Auerelie immediately had a bad feeling about it. Most of the tents were damaged, partially untied and flapping wildly in the wind. Agmaer looked at her with a frown. Serana poked her head into the only tent still standing and pulled out a battered, weather stained journal.  
  
"Let me guess, this excavation went tragically awry somewhere along the way." Auerelie sounded tired and resigned.  
  
Serana took a few minutes to leaf through the pages that were still legible. "Maybe. This guy, Volk, talks about strange energies and Vigilants going missing. He mentioned Florentius, so that's good. I guess we're going inside."  
  
Agmaer looked between the two women. "I... don't, I mean if Vigilants of Stendarr and a priest of Arkay went missing in there, it's definitely bad news."  
  
"We don't really have the time to waste on finding more help. Florentius is down there somewhere." Auerelie managed a soft laugh. "Besides, we are two vampire hunters and an actual vampire."  
  
"Serana, hold onto the book please. Someone may want it, and if we're lucky, that someone will be Volk."

****  
  
***

 

_ “I am certain we are digging in the right place. I can feel it in my bones, and I dream of finding Ruunvald at night. Even in my waking hours, I can almost hear a reassuring voice telling me we are going the right way.” -Discovering Ruunvald, Vol. I by Moric Sidrey _

  
Serana took the lead since she had the ability to see in the dark. Auerelie followed, and Agmaer brought up the rear with his crossbow ready. It was eerily quiet at first, just wooden platforms and abandoned tools. Being cautious, they went slow. The further they went down, the more wooden ramps there were. There were signs of life as well. Food, unspoiled. Embers in a dying fire.   
  
Coming into the next large room, they found four Vigilants shrouded in red mist. "This... isn't good," Serana murmured. One of the men turned, and there was no time to figure out if they were friend or foe before he attacked. Serana ducked under a swing of a great-sword.   
  
"Agmaer, fall back. Serana, we'll hold the line." Auerelie drew her ebony sword with her right hand, and starting forming a spell in her left. There was one archer among the Vigilants, and he fired arrows rapidly. Serana brought up a thin wall of ice. Two of the Vigilants rounded the wall on opposites sides.   
  
Auerelie crossed her sword with a halberd. She pushed the end of his blade down and shot a blast of fire in his face.

Serana dodged a spiked mace, and used her strength to push him back. The Vigilant obviously did not think much of a seemingly unarmed opponent. He rushed Serana. She spun off to one side, then dropped, sweeping his legs from under him. Before he could recover, she impaled him on a spear of ice.   
  
Once the ice wall started to melt, Agmaer watched the shadows of the two remaining Vigilants. He released a bolt, shattering what was left of the wall, and killing the archer firing from the upper ramps.

Auerelie cast a spell on the last man. There was a moment of silence then he dropped to his feet, clutching his head and gasping for breath. Auerelie grabbed the back of his head, jerking it back. He looked terrified as she slit his throat.

  
  
*******

 

_ “It must have something to do with the cramped spaces, but I have found myself prone to aches in my head. While these hardly deter me from my leadership role, I have found myself distracted at times. I have had many a conversation with the workers where I drift off, only to have them call me back to reality. Sometimes I lose small amounts of time and can't remember what I've done.” -Discovering Ruunvald, Vol. II by Moric Sidrey _   
  
They were forced to fight their way through the ensorcelled Vigilants, and Auerelie felt more angry and sad with every one of them cut down. There was powerful magic at work here, and she started to have doubts about finding Florentius alive.

Serana led them down a slick, stone ramp that almost plunged straight down. Auerelie could hear the sound of digging, pickaxes relentlessly chipping away at the earth.

Agmaer squeezed in between two large crates. One Vigilant immediately saw Auerelie. He did not even bother to drop his pickaxe, using it as his weapon.

She rolled out of the way, and struck him with a bolt of lightning. He appeared to shake off the spell, and he came at her again. She caught her sword against the pickaxe, and used the momentum to continue a downward swing. She pivoted her hip to the right and caught him in the face with her elbow.

Before he could recover, Serana silently slid her dagger between his ribs. Once the man had dropped, Auerelie could see where the vampire had blood smeared across her face and drying on her hands.

The click of the crossbow was a comforting sound to Amgaer. He watched a Vigilant pull at the bolt sticking out of his chest before falling forward, dead. He started to reload, but he failed to notice the Vigilant that maneuvered herself behind the crates. Seeing the movement of the shadow, Agmaer barely had time to duck before the crate next to his head shattered from a hammer blow.

He dropped the crossbow, and drew a pair of axes. The woman rushed at him, using a shield to shrug off Agmaer’s attacks.

He swung the axes outward, trying to create more space between them. One of the blades, sparked against her shield, which she put enough weight behind to bash into his shoulder.

Agmaer fell over a box of mining tools, hitting the ground hard. The Vigilant raised her hammer to crush his skull, but the blow never came. She made a choking noise as the blade of Auerelie’s sword pushed through her armor to the otherside. She had to wrestle her sword back once the Vigilant was dead.

“Agmaer, are you alright?”

He looked up at her, watching the blood dripping from her blade. The static of her electricity spells made wisps of her hair stand on end. “Hm?” He grabbed his shoulder. “Yeah, I think so. Armor took most of it.”

Serana looked at the bodies on the ground, her expression unreadable.

“Come on you two, we have a mission to finish.”

 

*******

 

_ “I have found my muse and her name is Minorne. Reading back over old journals, I realize she has called to me from deep inside Ruunvald. She is the voice I've been hearing, the one who has called me ever downwards into the mountain. The Vigilants, the workers, they hear her too! What joy to learn that I am not alone in her love! Oh, Minorne, how would we have ever found this place without you!” -Discovering Ruunvald, Vol. IV by Moric Sidrey _   
  


The small group came to a very large, circular chamber filled with ancient Nordic architecture. There was a grand staircase leading up to a strange alter.

A woman appeared from around the side of the stairs. She was an altmer carrying a golden staff. Auerelie shot her a bitter, hateful look. The woman smiled coldly. "So, I see it's come to this."   
  
Serana scoffed, "This was  _ your _ doing."   
  
"They served me as their goddess." She sneered. "You, sister, you know these humans are little more than beasts. Again, they can be slaves as they once were. Come, and they can serve you, too."   
  
Auerelie took a couple of steps back. "No." She spread out her hands, the air rippling. "I'll paint this hall with your blood."

A man appeared at the mage’s side. “Lady Minorne, let me destroy them in your name.”

“Go, Moric Sidrey.”   
  
Agmaer took position behind several huge clay jars.

Serana's hands burned bright with ice.

Moric drew his sword.

Serana shot out two large spikes of ice. Moric dodged one, and the other shattered against his ward. His sword met Serana’s when she rushed to meet him.

Moric took the offensive, swinging his sword upward to slice Serana diagonally from the waist. Serana blocked easily, and the absolute steadiness of her hand kept her from budging, even slightly.

He stepped back then thrust the blade forward to catch her in the ribs. She turned sideways and stepped back in one fluid motion.

His next attack came in the form of a powerful stroke downward, but she pushed his sword upwards and nearly out of his hands with her own blade.

She took several steps forward, bringing her sword down on Moric. The force of her blow was enough to rattle his entire body.

The pair met each blow for blow, and the sparks flew between them. Quick thrusts, sweeping arcs, and powerful strokes were all met head on, and neither one of them gave the other an inch.

But Moric was mortal, and tiring. Serana watched him, her sword poised. He attacked her again, using a flurry of blows to keep her on the defensive. His blade got caught against hers, and he pushed, but the vampire would not be moved.

Serana shoved her boot into his stomach, making him stagger back. She swung her sword around, and her blade severed his arms a several inches above the wrists. Moric went white with shock. Blood poured freely as he reeled backward.

She stalked toward him and with one fluid motion, stabbed him in the chest. Moric hit the floor, blood pooling around him.

 

*******

 

Agmaer’s bolts and Auerelie’s magic kept Minorne busy. The mage’s wards kept most of Auerelie’s magic at bay, and her staff sparked with a deadly mix of fire and electricity.

Auerelie dove out of the way of a Minorne’s spell, the heat shattering wood and warping stone. “Agmaer!” She ducked behind another pillar.

Serana was able to catch Minorne off guard with a shot of ice. There was the twang of Agmaer’s crossbow, the bolt catching the mage in the shoulder.

Auerelie breathed in, eyes closed, breathed out, eyes open.

At once, it felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the chamber. The world around her slowed. Her hands shot forward, her spell breaking Minorne’s ward, and slamming her into the wall. The staff skidded away.

Auerelie brought her hands up then down, the force of her spell shaking the chamber. The magic literally crushed Minorne, leaving her body limp and twisted in unnatural angles. It did not feel as satisfying as Auerelie thought it would.

 

*******

 

Florentius Baenius was being held in a suspended steel cage. Agmaer freed him quickly, while Auerelie looked on and Serana stood out of sight.   
  
"Ah, I knew you had it in you. Arkay wasn't so sure. Between you and me, I think he didn't expect you to make it. But not me! I knew it all along." Florentius stepped out of his prison, revealing a slight, middle-aged imperial with a relieved smile. He wore the robes of his order complete with the emblem of Arkay. He eyes shifted from Agmaer to Auerelie. "My timely rescuer. Whatever can I do to repay you?"   
  
"Come with us to Fort Dawnguard, Your Reverence," she replied, voice weak.   
  
Florentius' eyebrow shot up in surprise. "Arkay and I appreciate the respect, but you don't have to call me 'Your Reverence'. Haven't been called that in years.” His brow wrinkled. “Fort Dawnguard, you said? Why?"

“Because Isran and the Dawnguard need your help.”

“Isran? My help? Is this... some kind of a joke?” His expressed hardened. “Did Arkay put you up to this? Isran's done nothing but mock me. He's never given me the respect I deserve.”

Auerelie clenched her fists. “ _ Your Reverence _ , this is very important. We are investigating a vampire plot that involves an Elder Scroll.”

Florentius stared at her for a long time. “Arkay says that you are heard, and you will restore the balance.” He shook his head. “Arkay says it's a good idea for me to go. I don't agree, but he's not the sort of fellow you can just ignore.”

“Thank you,” Auerelie replied tiredly

 

*******

 

Serana gave the priest a very wide berth, knowing that her very existence insulted Arkay. Auerelie was content to keep her company while the men walked on ahead.

“Your magic is getting stronger.”

Auerelie shook her head. “I’m not so sure. I always want to collapse afterwards.”

“It is because your expending more magicka than you need. Precision is difficult, I know.” Serana gently knocked her shoulder against Auerelie’s. “Practice. I’ll help if you want.”

She looked at the vampire out her periphery. “Have we become friends then?” She sounded genuinely curious. “Lately, I feel like I can't tell with anyone.”

Serana laughed softly. “I would think so. Well, I think we are.”

Auerelie gave a sharp nod.

 

*******

 

Isran obviously was not happy to see Florentius, but he did not say anything to the man. He scowled at Serana, his fingers tapping at the blade hanging off his belt. “Auerelie?”

She suppressed a sigh. “Yes, did you learn anything new?” Agmaer hung out at the nearest corridor.

“A vampire lair in some Oblivion cursed fort called ‘Bloodlet Throne’.” Isran made a displeased noise. “It’s out in the middle of nowhere, though. Not sure what vampires would be doing out there.”

Auerelie gave him a strained smile. “Alright. I’ll head out soon.” She turned to leave.

Isran grabbed her shoulder with uncharacteristic care. “Rest up a few days. And a bit of advice. When it comes to vampires, if you're sloppy or careless, you're dead. And good people will die because of you. I've lasted this long because I don't take chances, I cover my tracks, and I keep my damned eyes open. If you're smart, you'll do the same. I don’t want the Dawnguard to end up like the Vigilants.”

“Is that what you said to the Vigilants?” She frowned. “I thought you used to be one. Why do you hate them?”

“Isn't it obvious? They're soft, the lot of them. They were totally unprepared for any real threat. And yet I was the one ridiculed for trying to be ready for anything.  _ Too extreme _ , they called me. Well, that doesn't seem to have worked out in their favor, now has it?” Isran shook his head.

“Vigilant Tolan died fighting vampires, and he did it without fear and with conviction.”

Isran’s jaw tightened, his arms crossed, and his feet planted at though he were braced for battle. Auerelie stared down at him, her eyes glowing gold under the skylight. “Just… be careful,” he said after a few moments of silence.

 

*******

 

Auerelie sat on the edge of her bed combing her hair. Isran said to take a few days, but she felt as though that time could not be spared. Her hands shook, and it only took a few minutes for her to become frustrated. She jumped up and threw the comb down on the table.

Her door slowly started to swing open, she was prepared to fling lightning until she saw that it was Agmaer. She supposed she should have known that he would be the only one brave enough to bother her here. “Is it an emergency?”

He shook his head. “No.” He closed the door behind him. “I just wanted to check on you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m an adult.” She shot him a pointed look. “How is your shoulder?”

“Fine, actually. Florentius is a very skilled healer.” He took a step forward. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Perfect.”

“No, but that’s alright.” His smile was fond. “You know, I like your hair like that.”

Auerelie tugged on a lock of hair hanging over her shoulder. “What, down?”

He nodded. “Yeah, you always wear it pinned up. I mean, yeah, of course, we fight a lot…” He cleared his throat. “But like this, it looks like a river of gold.”

She huffed a breathy laugh. “Thanks, I suppose.”

“We’re headed out soon, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, probably the day after tomorrow.”

Agmaer stared up at her. Before Auerelie could say anything, he reached up on the tips of his toes, and kissed her. Just a soft brush of lips then he was gone.


	11. The Order of The Ancestor Moth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta. There is a sexual content is this chapter, and it's sectioned off with a long row of stars if you want to skip it. Also, I think this will be my very last foray into smut, because damn, it's difficult.

Auerelie stood in the doorway of Florentius’ alchemy lab. She studied the countless little potion bottles, the shelves of ingredients, the tools, and scrolls of recipes. The lab was lit by numerous lanterns and hovering orbs of magelight. She liked the quiet rhythm of Florentius’ movements. His hands were deft and quick, pinching off herb leaves or measuring out bonemeal.  
  
The quiet went on for nearly twenty minutes before the priest waved her over. He looked up at her, and she felt small under his understanding gaze. “You come with questions. Or is it answers.” He frowned. “Hmm, maybe neither.” He rubbed his forehead with stained fingers.  
  
Her voice was so soft, “Does he really hear you?”  
  
Florentius tilted his head to the side. “Arkay says he hears all of you.”  
  
“Isran thinks you’re crazy.”  
  
Florentius laughed. “Of course, he never understood. The Divines touch all things to be touched, seen and unseen.” He took her hand, pressing their palms together. His hand was smaller than hers though his fingers wider. Her fingers were much longer and her skin less weathered. “You think things separate when they are one.”  
  
Auerelie stared at their hands. “I don’t… think I understand.”  
  
“Open your heart to the noble secrets of art and love. Treasure the gifts of friendship. Seek joy and inspiration in the mysteries of love,” he replied. He patted her arm then turned back to his work.

  
  
*******

  
“Absolutely not.”  
  
“Really Isran? You said you needed someone for the Fallowstone job.” Auerelie crossed her arms. “Why ask if you did not want my opinion? Better yet, ask Celann.”  
  
“Celann is working our defenses and overseeing training.”  
  
“Then send Erik and Ingjard.” She felt a headache building. “Serana and Jenassa will go with me.”  
  
“How’s the hunt for the moth priest?”  
  
“I wrote some letters. Hopefully, something will come of it or we’ll have a fancy Elder Scroll and no one to read it.”  
  
Isran grumbled but let the conversation drop.

  
  
*******

  
Agmaer was sitting on her bed when Auerelie came back from discussing spells with Florentius.  
  
She crossed her arms and leaned against the door. “You have been avoiding me.”  
  
Agmaer nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “I, umm, wasn't sure if you angry with me or not. Jenassa said she wouldn't train me anymore if I kept stalling.” He knew he was rambling, but he could not help himself.  
  
“Agmaer, why are you here?” She started to pull off the outer layers of her robes.  
  
“Because I shouldn't have run away last night.” He tugged at his tunic.  
  
She raised her eyebrows. “Well?”  
  
“I want to… kiss you… again.” He cleared his throat. “Properly this time.”  
  
Auerelie stared at him. “What?” She honestly expected some kind of excuse.  
  
He stood. “Can I?” His smile was shy. “I didn't want to have to wait another couple of months.”  
  
“You want to kiss me?” She felt stuck on that part.  
  
“Well, yeah. If you want me to.”  
  
Auerelie worked her throat for an answer. She wanted. She had wanted for a long time. Her eyes closed for a moment. Open your thoughts to the noble secrets of art and love.  
  
“Auerelie? Do you want me to leave?”  
  
She grabbed his arm and pulled him into her space. He was just short enough for her to rest her chin on his head. It amused her.  
  
Agmaer pulled back slowly. He looked up her with those sky blue eyes that she grown so fond of. “You… can, you know…”  
  
He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently. Her arms slid around his shoulders. The tip of his tongue touched her lips, and she deepened their kiss quite eagerly. Her fingers tugged on the short hairs at the back of his neck.  
  
Agmaer broke away with a soft sound. He hooked his hands under her thighs and hefted her onto the table. She was eye-level now. He stood between her legs, his hands on her hips.  
  
Auerelie slid her tongue along his lower lip, his skin soft and a little chapped. He caught her mouth in a heated kiss.  
  
She pressed her forehead against his. “I’m heading out tomorrow.”  
  
“Yeah. Probably won't see you for a few weeks.” He kissed her temple. “I’ll miss you ladies.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Of course, you’re my three favorites.”  
  
She snickered. “What's the current ranking?”  
  
Agmaer grinned. “Well, obviously, you're number one, then Jenassa, then Serana.”  
  
“As long as I’m first.” She kissed his forehead.

  
  
*******

  
Auerelie left with Jenassa and Serana just before sunrise. Serana assured them that she was well enough to travel during the day as long as she did not over exert herself. They traveled on foot, their route hugging the border of Cyrodiil.  
  
Jenassa did not what to make of Serana. The woman was a vampire, but also intelligent and well mannered. She was nothing like the violent, cruel creatures that she had battled so far. Still, the dunmer never let her hand stray too far from her dagger.  
  
Auerelie made sure to take a circuits route, not wanting to risk bandits, soldiers, or anyone else that would be too interested in their business delaying them.  
  
Jenassa pointed off to the northeast. “I had a patron that was an explorer of sorts. We took a similar route to get to Helgen. There's a path that leads into the mountains, difficult to find, but I remember the way.”  
  
Auerelie motioned the dunmer to take the lead. “The sooner, the better. I would like to sleep in a bed for more than two nights in a row.”  
  
“Isran's been pushing you too hard. You should have heard the argument between him and Agmaer.” Serana tilted her head back, her eyes glowing in the light of the setting sun. “Never seen Agmaer lose his temper before.”  
  
Auerelie frowned. “Why?”  
  
“Accused Isran of using you. I think… you don’t know the kind of respect that you already command.” Serana knocked her shoulder against Auerelie’s. “You were one of the first people to join the Dawnguard. You take the dangerous missions, been mostly leading this mess since I popped up with an Elder Scroll.”  
  
“Well, we are in a war with vampires that want to blot out the sun. No one is really going rest.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter how I feel as long as the job gets done.”

  
  
*******

  
Jenassa led them through the mountains, managing to avoid the absolute worst of the snow.  
  
“How do people bloody live here?” Auerelie had to speak over the wind. She adjusted her scarf again for the hundredth time.  
  
Serana flashed her a toothy smile. “We can't all be as thin blooded as you.” Her dark hair whipped around her face, and Auerelie admired the contrast against the snow.  
  
“I’m with the altmer on this one. How you nords stand this, I’ll never know.” Jenassa huddled deeper into her cloak until only her crimson eyes were visible.

  
  
*******

  
Bloodlet Throne was a crumbling ruin of a fort nestled deep in the mountains south of Whiterun. Most of it had been claimed by the elements, but there were signs of recent activity. Auerelie frowned, watching torches sputter and die as the sun came up. There were fresh tracks in the snow, and the remains of a firepit.  
  
“We don't know how deep this goes.”  
  
Jenassa looked at Auerelie, her mouth set in a grim line. “Or if we're outnumbered.”  
  
Auerelie studied the fort, trying to find weak spots. “We may be outnumbered. I can almost guarantee that. So, we'll play this smart.”  
  
The women came up with a rather solid plan. Jenassa would hang back to provide cover fire while Auerelie tucked herself out of view of the door. Serana silently slid inside the fort.  
  
It did not take long. Two thralls ran outside, clearly looking for Serana. An arrow took out, one and a gout of fire took out the other.  
  
Serana was able to flush out two more thralls and a vampire. They were all killed with ease.  
  
The trio entered, cautious and with weapons ready. The hall slowly sloped downward, and the further they went the more the stones were slick with mold and stale water. There were voices, but it was hard to tell their origin for the echoes.  
  
Jenassa released an arrow, hitting a trigger for a spring-trap. “Careful,” she whispered, drawing another arrow.  
  
Auerelie peered around a corner, which opened up to a large, two-story room. There were more vampires, but what caught her attention was an orc vampire holding a chain that was attached to an old man in ragged robes.  
  
The women exchanged looks. Auerelie spun out a whirlwind of flame, catching one vampire in the blaze and driving the rest back. “Don’t let them escape with the prisoner.” An arrow whizzed by her ear.  
  
The fight became chaotic. Auerelie wove around blades and spells alike. Jenassa fired in rapid succession. Serana faded in and out of the shadows, striking from stealth.  
  
The orc was trying to drag the man away when Auerelie caught up to them. He shoved the man aside, turning his attention to her. “This is your end, little elf.” He shot out a bolt of lightning, which sizzled against the wet stone.  
  
Auerelie opened her hand, a shield of blinding golden light surrounding her. The orc found out very quickly that just the touch of that energy burned his flesh.  
  
She formed a bound sword made of the same golden light. He fought hard and held up against the pain of his flesh blackening and falling away. Auerelie stepped into his guard, and ran her sword through his stomach.  
  
He stumbled back, the spell dissolving into his blood. Threads of light stood out against his skin. He heaved, pushing hard against the wound. He fell to his knees, and his body crumpled into dust.  
  
Auerelie rushed over to the elderly man. She unchained him and wrapped him in her cloak. He looked up at her with feverish eyes. Mottled bruise stood out starkly against his thin skin.  
  
“Jenassa, the potions!”  
  
With a healing draught, the man started to return to himself. He shivered, holding onto Auerelie’s cloak with long, gnarled fingers. “Who… who?” He wheezed.  
  
“You’re alright. We will get you out of here.”  
  
The women found a relatively clean room near the entrance and hunkered down for the night.

  
  
*******

  
Jenassa watched the man struggle to sit up. “Just rest, old man.”  
  
“Who are you people?”  
  
“We are the Dawnguard,” she replied.  
  
“Vampire hunters?” He coughed, and Jenassa did not like the sound of it. “I am… Dexion Evicus. From the Imperial City.”  
  
Auerelie handed Dexion another healing potion. “How did you end up here? And kidnapped by vampires?”  
  
“I am a priest in the Order of the Ancestor Moth. We… we’re looking for Elder Scrolls to add to the Imperial Library.”  
  
They all stared at him.  
  
“Your Eminence, we have been looking for you.” Auerelie sat on her knees beside the bed. “We need you to come back to Fort Dawnguard with us.”  
  
Dexion looked at Auerelie as if searching for something. “Tell me why, child.”  
  
“Because we have an Elder Scroll, and we are all in terrible danger.”  
  
Dexion nodded slightly. “Alright. When my legs feel up to the journey, we'll go.”

  
  
*******

  
Dexion could have never imagined traveling with such an odd group of women. The vampire kept her distance, and secretly he was grateful for it. The dark elf was gruff but kind when it was least expected. The high elf surprised him the most. Her aura was so bright she had to have been touched by the Divines.  
  
The trip back was slow going, but no one commented on the fact. The women kept a rotating schedule of taking point and keeping watch. Jenassa spent most of her free time making arrows. Serana would disappear for hours at a time to hunt. Auerelie practiced a bit with her spells but mostly, she was watchful.  
  
Auerelie wondered if she was becoming as paranoid as Isran, but she supposed the man had a point. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Sleep did not come easily on the road, but she forced herself to snatch a few hours here and there. A familiar terror itched under her skin everytime she closed her eyes, and she thought about her tiny room in the Embassy where she flinched away from every shadow. Auerelie could not quite remember those gray days, but she still carried the fear and the exhaustion.

  
  
*******

  
Fort Dawnguard was impressive, and Dexion took a moment to stand on the rise into the valley and watch the sun set behind the grand castle. Serana and Jenassa went on, following the main road. Auerelie waited patiently a few feet from Dexion. “You can go on, child.”  
  
“No, Your Eminence, I would rather see you all the way through the front doors.”

He set a leisurely pace, partly because he wanted to enjoy the freedom, and partly because his bones just ached. Auerelie remained with him, walking several feet behind. The trees closest to the fort had been cleared away, and huddled under several makeshift ramps were people bundled against the cold. Auerelie’s eyebrows rose.  
  
“What is this?” She peered down at an old man, obviously ill.

A redguard woman spoke up, “We’re farmers from the lands of The Rift.” She stood, showing off a body much too thin. “I thought the Dawnguard were here to help. I thought we would be safe here.”  
  
A nord woman spoke up from where she was tending a man with bandages wrapped around his right leg. “It’s not safe out here. Those horrible creatures attacking people in the night. They said we can’t come in. Look at the size of that fort. They must have room for a few more in there.”  
  
Auerelie blinked slowly. “Who said you had to stay out here?”  
  
“A man named Isran,” the first woman replied.  
  
“I see.” Auerelie sighed. “I will speak to him. In the meantime, I’ll have someone bring some food and basic supplies.”

  
  
*******

  
Once Dexion and Auerelie entered the fort, there were several people to meet them. Celann stepped forward. “You really found a Moth Priest?” He stared at Dexion.  
  
“Yes, but he needs to recover.”  
  
“We might not have the kind of time,” Isran eyed the frail looking priest.  
  
Auerelie forced a bland expression. “We’ll make that kind of time.” Agmaer approached her slowly, and her expression softened. “Please make sure that His Eminence is taken care of. I will speak with you later.” Before she could overthink it, she kissed his forehead then marched over the leader of the Dawnguard.  
  
She refused to speak until Isran met her in his office. The second the door closed, she whirled around to face him. “What is going on? You have people just… camped out in the valley?”  
  
He scowled. “They could be vampires or thralls. We don’t have the resources—“  
  
“They’re going to end up as vampires, thralls, or dead sitting out there like that. They’re sick, hungry, injured, and they came here because they thought the Dawnguard would shelter them.” She tugged off her cloak, tossing it over a chair. “I get it. You’re paranoid and worried. We all are.”  
  
“I’m the one that assessed the threat. I’m the one that brought this all together.” He crossed his arms. “They stay out there.”  
  
She laughed, and it bordered on hysteria. “Yeah, we’re not doing that.” She clenched her fist. “I thought I was supposed to be the hard-hearted one. They’re _not_ living out there. This fort that you’re so proud of, it will need people to run it. You’ll need staff.” She snorted. “Unless you plan on scrubbing floors and washing sheets.”  
  
“You’re serious?”  
  
“I am very fucking serious. I wanted nothing more than to punch you in the face the moment I came through the doors. We’re supposed to be _helping_ people. _Protecting_ them.” Auerelie took in a deep breath. “I know you hate vampires. I know you want to keep people safe. But this isn’t the answer.”  
  
Isran heaved out a sigh that sounded more like a growl.  
  
Two days later, the refugees in the valley were moved into what was once the servants’ quarters. The small group consisted of Alvide with her husband, Barknar, the redguard woman, Jayri, and the old man was Sern. Auerelie had a feeling there would be more, but for now, these people had somewhere safe to live.

  
  
*******

  
Auerelie showed up in Agmaer’s room for a change. The moment he opened the door, she breezed by him and threw herself down on the bed. He chuckled. “How’s Dexion?”  
  
She rolled over. “His Eminence is a lot better now. No longer has that horrible cough. Isran wants to do the reading tomorrow, and I guess I’ve put him off long enough.”  
  
“You don’t want him to read the Elder Scroll?”  
  
“I do, but something… feels not right.” She shook her head. “It’s stupid. We need to know what that scroll says. It was sheer luck that we even found a Moth Priest. And Isran and I may murder each other before this is all done.”  
  
Agmaer sat next to her. “Another fight?”  
  
“We agree on the goal but not the methods.” She frowned. “He reminds me a lot of… who I was _before_. Single-minded, and superior, and blind to all else but the end result.” She rolled over toward him, curling herself around him with her head in his lap.  
  
“I’m guessing he doesn’t want to hear that.”  
  
“No one knows that I was Thalmor. I would rather it stay that way.” Her eyes closed.  
  
He ran his hand through her hair. “Did you plan on ever telling me.”  
  
“No,” she replied, honest and simple.  
  
He sighed lightly. “I’m glad I know anyway. That was a large part of your life.”  
  
“I do not want to imagine a world where I would have arrested you and had you executed for failing to comply with the White Gold Concordat.” Just the thought made her stomach turn. “I don’t want that world.”  
  
Agmaer gently ran his finger along the shell of her ear, amused when it flicked away from him. “You don’t have to know, now.”

  
  
*******

 

Dexion stood under the skylight, smiling faintly at the stars. Serana appeared with the Elder Scroll and presented to the priest. Other members of the Dawnguard stood in a loose circle around the room.

Dexion stared down at the scroll, his fingers picking at the fine details of the metal casing. He breathed in slowly, his mind becoming disconnected from the physical world. He opened the scroll, and a glow surrounded him.

“I see a vision before me, an image of Auriel's Bow.” He sounded far away. “Now a voice whispers, saying ‘Among the night's children, a dread lord will rise. Darkness will mingle with light and the night and day will be as one.’”

Auerelie watched the scene before her with wide eyes.

Dexion’s hands started to shake. “The voice fades, and the words begin to shimmer and distort. Wait. There's more here.”

Under the skylight and touched by the power of the Elder Scroll, Dexion looked transparent, and his eyes seemingly stared at nothing. “The secret of the bow's power is written elsewhere. I think there is more to the prophecy, recorded in other scrolls.  
I see them now... One contains the ancient secrets of the dragons, and the other speaks of the potency of ancient blood.”

Dexion gasped as if he could not breathe. Auerelie unconsciously took a step forward. “My vision darkens, and I see no more. To know the complete prophecy, we must have the other two scrolls.”

The scroll rolled into itself, and Dexion fell to his knees. Isran grabbed his arms, pulling him to his feet. “Time to get some rest, old man” Celann and Erik led Dexion away.

Auerelie picked up the scroll and gave it back to Serana. “Isran?”

“I heard a lot of nothing helpful. The only thing that matters is that the vampires are after Auriel’s Bow.” Isran shook his head, his expression grim. “Find two more Elder Scrolls?”

Auerelie looked just as unhappy.

“The Moth Priest can stay here for now.” Isran pointed at Serana. “As for the vampire, I still don't trust it, so keep it on a leash.”

Serana sighed then turned to Auerelie. “Can we talk for a bit?”

“Of course.”

 

*******

 

They sat in the little nook Serana made for herself in the dungeon. Serana lit a couple of lanterns and carefully set the scroll aside.

“I think I know where we can start looking for the other two scrolls.”

“I’m open to ideas.”

“We need to find my mother, Valerica. She'll definitely know where it is, and if we're really lucky, she actually has it.” She drew her knees up to her chest. “As for the third scroll, I think I would try the College of Winterhold.”

“Your mother?”

“Yes, she’s the one the helped me hide from my father. I don’t know where she is, however.”

“Are you alright, Serana?” She knocked her knee against hers.

“Yes. I will be.” She sighed. “It's just been… a long time. But thank you for asking.”

Auerelie leaned back against a stack of crates. “You have any idea where your mother might be?”

“The last time I saw her, she said that she'd go somewhere safe... somewhere that my father would never search. Other than that, she wouldn't tell me anything.”

“Somewhere safe?” She frowned. “That just seems so… general.”

Serana shrugged. “I can't imagine a single place my father would avoid looking. And he's had all this time. Centuries. Any ideas?”

There was a few moments of silence. “What about… the castle? What if she never left? Hiding in plain sight. Places like that always have secrets.”

“That's actually… brilliant. There's a courtyard in the castle. I used to help her tend a garden there. All of the ingredients for our potions came from there. She used to say that my father couldn't stand the place.”

“I don't know how we will get inside to even start a search.”

“There's an unused inlet on the northern side of the island. It was used to bring supplies into the castle. An old escape tunnel from the castle exits there. I think that's our way in."

Auerelie nodded. “Alright, so back to Castle Volkihar.”

 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

“Leaving again so soon?” Agmaer kissed the side of her head.

“Yes. This quest just got more impossible than it already was.” She leaned heavily into his side.

“No kidding. I can check out the College while you're away. Hopefully, someone knows something.”

She dug her fingers into his side until he laughed. “I don’t know what kind of luck you will have. They don't normally permit non-mages onto the grounds.”

“We’ll see, I suppose.” He pulled Auerelie onto his lap, and her knees bracketed his hips.

She smiled softly. She tilted his face upward and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

Her teeth caught his lower lip, tugging gently until she soothed the sting with her tongue. Her fingers grasped his hair. He planted a kiss on her throat, and worked on putting a bruise there.

She tilted her head to the side as he kissed along her jaw and up to her ear. His tongue ran up the curve of her ear before sucking the point between his lips. Auerelie’s entire body shuddered, and goosebumps rose across her skin.

Agmaer made an amused sound. “They really are that sensitive.” He tugged on her ear gently with his teeth.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders, and slowly rolled her hips against his. “I can play dirty, too.”

Agmaer waggled his eyebrows at her. “Oh?”

He raced his fingers up her sides and under her arms. She exploded in laughter, trying to twist away from him. He rolled them over, his body pinning hers.

Agmaer held her arms above her head. He watched the last of her giggles peter out. “Gods, you’re beautiful.” He kissed her, slow and deep, and before she could fully melt into it, he pulled back.

She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. Her mouth was red from their kisses. A bright copper blush rose up across her cheeks and up to her ears. “Agmaer?” Her voice was barely audible.

His mouth curved into a fond smile. “Yeah?”

“Undress me.”

Agmaer never even dreamed he could have this. Auerelie looked up at him with a soft smile, her fingers still twisted in the folds of his shirt. He kissed her softly, just a wet slide of their lips.  
  
In the light, she looked as though she were molten gold, and he could not wait to get the rest of her clothes off. He worked his hand under her shirt.

He started his kisses at the tip of her ear, tugging it between his lips. Auerelie shuddered, goosebumps rising across her body. He ran his tongue along the shell of her ear.  
  
She jerked when he bit down on her earlobe. He grinned at her before capturing her mouth once more.  
  
Their kisses became more frantic, a back and forth of tongues and biting lips. Agmaer ran his hand along her side, marvelling at the feel of her skin. Auerelie tangled her fingers in his hair and brought him back to her eager mouth.  
  
Agmaer used his thumb to trace the underside of her breast. When she started to squirm, his fingers circled her pert nipple. She sighed softly. Her leg rubbed against the inside of his thigh, making him groan. “You’re going to end this before we get started if you keep that up.”  
  
She laughed. “Best not then.” She inhaled sharply as he rolled her nipple between his fingers. He kissed along the side of her neck and down across her shoulder. He mouthed at her other nipple until she had to pull her shirt off. “You tease,” she whined.  
  
He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe a little.” His lips wrapped around her nipple, tongue swirling over the hardened nub. Auerelie nearly bucked him off when he bit down just enough to sting.  
  
Agmaer gave her other breast similar attention while his hands roamed her body. Auerelie closed her eyes, her hands gripping his broad shoulders. He kissed up her chest and back to the side of her neck. He sucked a bruise there while his fingers dipped between her legs.  
  
He rubbed her sex, the fabric of her pants providing extra friction. She sighed, head back to give him better access.  
  
He worked the laces of her pants as he planted kisses down her chest to her navel. “Can I taste you?”  
  
She wiggled her hips. “Gods, yes.” He peeled down her pants, staring at her like she was something to be devoured. He pushed her legs up, resting them over his shoulders. He nosed at the crease of her hip. Auerelie felt the thrum of anticipation. Her hands worked through his hair.  
  
He dug his fingers into the muscle of her thighs. He licked just above her sex and blew on the damp skin to make her shudder. She groaned, “Still teasing.”  
  
He bit the inside of her thigh. “Yep.” He smiled up at her. Before she could whine at him, he slid his tongue along the slit, tasting the moisture already gathered there. She gasped, her body going tense before slowly relaxing. “Let me know what you like.”  
  
Agmaer slowly licked her open, his tongue working working around her clit. She arched her back to push him closer. He slid his middle finger into her as he ran his tongue across her clit.  
  
Auerelie rolled her hips, one hand twisting in the blankets. “So good.” She sounded breathless already.  
  
He gently rolled her clit between his lips, and he had to keep on hand against her hips to keep her from twisting away. His finger worked her inside, sliding tortuously over her slick walls.  
  
Auerelie nudged him with her knee. “Just… ah… like that.” She cried out when he touched that perfect spot. Agmaer pulled his hand back enough to add another finger.  
  
She panted and writhed as he licked up and down her clit. His fingers moved quickly, pushing her closer to climax. Agmaer moved his hand from her hip to play with her nipple.  
  
Agmaer pressed relentlessly against her pleasure spot, and when his teeth scraped over the inside of her sex, she groaned out her orgasm.  
  
He pulled back to lean over her. She kissed him fiercely. His two middle fingers dove back into her, hand angled up and outside fingers braced against her.  
  
She looked up at him through half lidded eyes. “Agmaer…” She was still trembling. “What…” She gasped when his hand started to move, his fingers pumping in and out of her in short, fast thrusts. “Ah… fuck!” She pulled at the blankets with both hands. With her back arched and her head thrown back, all she could do was twist and jerk her hips.  
  
He moved faster, his fingers making wet sounds between her legs. And just when Auerelie thought she was going to implode, he stopped. “Wha…” Her chest heaved.  
  
Agmaer kissed her forehead then her nose and then finally her mouth. “Can I be inside you?”  
  
She nodded. Her body still twitched, and her muscles jerked from so much stimulation. Agmaer pulled off his clothes in a hurry before laying down beside her. “I think you’ll like this. Up top.”  
  
Auerelie straddled him, her legs shaking. He held her steady while she slowly sunk down on his cock. She rocked a bit, adjusting to the girth.  
  
Agmaer squeezed his eyes shut, hissing between his teeth. “Just…” He planted his feet on the bed and brought his legs up to cradle her ass. He held on tight to her hips.  
  
Auerelie rolled her hips forward, prickles of pleasure racing up her spine. He pushed his hips upward for the first few thrusts. She did not expect him to lift her by the hips and slam into her as she came down. She moaned deeply, which cut off into a sharp noise when he did it again.  
  
Agmaer set a fast pace. He was not going to last long like that, so he freed one hand to rub her clit. A few more thrusts and she was coming with his name on her lips.  
  
Agmaer wrapped his arms around her waist, thrusting two more times before he spilled himself inside of her. He breathed out her name over and over again.  
  
Auerelie collapsed against him, and it was a welcome weight.

 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************


	12. Scroll Scouting

Agmaer had promised to investigate the College of Winterhold, but now that he was watching Auerelie and Serana leave for Castle Volkihar, he was starting to regret the decision. He stood off to the side while Auerelie spoke to Jenassa, and he shamelessly listened in on their conversation.

  
“Don’t worry, I’ll look after your boy.” Jenassa’s eyes crinkled in amusement.   
  
Auerelie sighed heavily. “He doesn’t need babysitting, just… don’t let his _nord ways_ put off the mages at the College.”   
  
Her eyebrows rose sharply. “You know, I’m no true mage, myself.”   
  
Auerelie shook her head. “All mer know magic.”

  
“Two spells hardly count.”   
  
“They do count. Now, travel well.”   
  
Jenassa nodded, her expression more serious than usual. With the beginnings of a frown, Agmaer approached Auerelie. “Ah, don’t make that face. I am just trying to make sure you have the best odds for coming back to me.”   
  
He looked up at her, trying to find something to say. He touched her hand, his thumb running across her knuckles. “Come back. Alright?”   
  
She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. Her hand rested on the back of his neck. “May Auri-El’s light guide you back home.” She fished out a small pendant, one that had been given to her by her aunt. On a simple gold chain hung the sigil of Auri-El: a blazing sun with eight points. She made Agmaer take it.

  
  
*******

  
Agmaer watched as Jenassa shot a winter-wolf straight through the eye. He was awed, seeing her stand ramrod straight against the icy wind. She slung her bow across her back then started the trudge through the snow. He followed her and kept watch for any more hostile wildlife.   
  
Their trip started out well with milder weather until they reached The Pale. Agmaer did most of the bargaining for their supplies. Jenassa had little patience for she referred to as ‘nord foolishness’. The weather took a bad turn as they crossed over into the Winterhold. Forced to hunker down in some partially buried ruins, Amgaer was half afraid that they would starve to death, or maybe Jenassa would freeze to death.   
  
The dark elf proved her worth as a ranger over and over again. She found the best hunting, the safest shelters, and navigated by the moons and stars. He could definitely see why Auerelie recruited her.   
  
Currently, they were less than a day’s travel from the city of Winterhold, and by this point, even Agmaer was tired of ice and snow. He watched Jenassa’s fur-lined cloak whip wildly in the wind. Her hair flew about her face like black ribbons. She wanted to push on through the night, but Agmaer could see even she was starting to wane.

  
  
*******

  
Despite it being almost noon, Winterhold was still bleak and gray under thick snow clouds. The wind had grown worse the further north they traveled. The snow almost obscured what was left of the city. Agmaer looked at the rundown, old buildings, some barely standing against the weather. There were only a couple of residential buildings, a general store, an inn, and the Jarl’s longhouse.   
  
Jenassa pushed her way up the stairs to the Frozen Hearth Inn, stomping snow off her boots. The interior was warm, but everything smelled of old wood and smoke. The innkeeper was a nord with tired eyes named Dagur.

“Come in. We got mead that’ll knock the cold from your bones.” He motioned them over.  
  
Jenassa went to speak with Dagur while Agmaer took a moment to stand by the fire.  
  
“You have rooms as well?”  
  
“Aye, lass. That I do.” Dagur pulled out an old ledger. “If you have business with the College, you’re welcome to stay here. It’s where most of our business comes from, in fact.”  
  
“Good. Two rooms for now.” She pushed her damp hair back from her face. “And whatever you got to eat that’s hot.”  
  
Agmaer watched a high elf tend to a small cauldron hanging over one of the firepits. He frowned at the mixture, poked at it with a metal spoon, then added some red dust. Agmaer expected it to smell terrible, but the scent was subtle and earthy. Eventually, the elf caught him staring. “Something, I can help you with? If it’s business with the College, those days are long behind me.”  
  
“Oh, um, well, I actually do need to go to the College, but I was just watching your… alchemy.” He cringed.  
  
The elf finally turned to Agmaer, giving him his full attention after a once over. Agmaer absently noted that he was a little shorter than Auerelie.  “Your crest…” He gestured to Agmaer’s armor. “I’ve seen that somewhere before.”  
  
“I am a member of the Dawnguard.” He straightened. “My name is Agmaer.”  
  
“Vampire hunter? Interesting.” He turned back to his mixture. “I am Nelacar.”  
  
“Do you know if someone at the College will talk to me?”  
  
“Perhaps, depends on the nature of your business.” Nelacar pulled the cauldron away from the fire. “I would recommend asking for the Master Wizard. She’s the most level-headed of the lot.”  
  
Jenassa approached them, the stoic expression dark elves were known for, firmly in place. “Agmaer.” She pressed a room key into his hand, and he took it as the silent dismissal it was. “Are you with the College?” She crossed her arms and cocked her hip against the edge of a table.  
  
“No, not anymore.” He wove a weak frost spell to cool the mixture faster. “You wear the same crest as your friend. I have heard the rumors. I am sure most people have. About the vampire menace.” He looked down at her, questioning.  
  
“We have simply come to seek information.”  
  
“About what, I wonder.”  
  
“About a matter of which you know nothing, and therefore, cannot be of any assistance.”  
  
Nelacar mouth twitched. “I doubt your little nord agrees with you.”  
  
Jenassa’s eyes narrowed slightly. “He is of no concern to you, either.” She could vividly imagine Auerelie’s terrifying wrath if Nelacar tried anything untoward.  
  
“You’re protecting him.”  
  
“He can protect himself.”  
  
“I could get you an audience with the Arch-Mage himself.” His expression was a facsimile of warmth.  
  
Jenassa’s eyes flicked from his face to his restless hands. She could read him as easily as any book. Altmer were not as subtle as they believed. “At a price too high, to be sure.”  
  
“I would happily reach an agreement with a sister mer.”  
  
Jenassa snorted. “You’re no kin to me, altmer.”  
  
Nelacar tilted his head politely downward. “Perhaps you will reconsider when the College turns you away.”

  
  
*******

  
Agmaer felt out of his depth as he stood in front of a mage named Faralda. He was starting to think that all high elves were intimidating by nature. She stared down her nose at him. “What is your business here?” The cadence of her voice was very different from Auerelie’s, more of a drawl.  
  
He cleared his throat. “I'm looking for knowledge of the Elder Scrolls.” He glanced at Jenassa out of his periphery. “I have come a long way, and the knowledge is to aid an important quest of the Dawnguard.”  
  
“And what can you offer the College?” Faralda’s gaze shifted from Agmaer to Jenassa and back again.  
  
Agmaer drew a blank, and he gave Jenassa a helpless look. “Ah, I… don't know.” He took a step forward. “But it's important. May we speak to the Master Wizard? Please?”  
  
Faralda narrowed her eyes on him. “I will give her your message. Nothing more.” She turned on her heel and started up the bridge.  
  
Jenassa sighed, and tried to keep the wind from blowing her hair in her face. “That went well.”  
  
He shrugged. “Give it a day or two then I guess we move on.”  
  
“To where?” She started back to the inn. “This was our best lead.”  
  
“Markarth and Solitude have big libraries. But… that's such a long way off.” He ruffled his hair. “They're not going to let us in, are they?”  
  
Jenassa looked doubtful, but she said, “All we can do is wait.”

  
  
*******

  
Mirabelle Ervine was a small breton, and she carried herself with self-assurance and authority. Agmaer fought the urge to fidget. Jenassa appeared as aloof as ever, and he envied her.  
  
He was grateful to the mage for meeting with them, but he found her office intimidating and felt completely out of his depth. Mirabelle poured them some spiced tea before taking her seat.  
  
“I was told this matter is urgent.”  
  
“Yes, madam…” He was not sure how to address her. “We are looking for information on Elder Scrolls.”  
  
“It is true there are some here who have spent years studying the accumulated knowledge of the scrolls. But what you seek does not come easily.”  
  
Jenassa took pity on him. “We understand that Mistress Ervine, but may we access the College’s library? The information we may find could save a lot of lives.”  
  
Mirabelle stared at them for a moment. She knew there was something going on. First, the resurgence of vampires then the news about the reformation of the Dawnguard. “Very well. I will permit you two days to study in the library. You will abide by all of Urag gro-Shub’s rules. He’s the Master Librarian. We clear?”  
  
Agmaer nodded. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

  
  
*******

  
Jenassa stared down at the book in her hand, _Effects of the Elder Scrolls_ , and she was pretty sure it would not be much help. Interesting, though.  
  
Agmaer did not look like he was faring any better with _Ruminations on the Elder Scrolls_. He flipped back and forth through the book, obviously puzzled.  
  
He took the book back to Urag. “This doesn't make a lot of sense. What can you tell me about the Scrolls?”  
  
Urag growled, his golden eyes narrowing on Agmaer. “An Elder Scroll is an instrument of immense knowledge and power. The simplest way to put it is ‘knowledge’, but there's nothing simple about an Elder Scroll. It's a reflection of all possible futures and all possible pasts. Each reader sees different reflections through different lenses, and may come away with a very different reading. But at the same time, all of it is true. Even the falsehoods. Especially the falsehoods.”  
  
Agmaer looked hopelessly lost.  
  
Urag took the book back from him. “The Scrolls exist here, with us, but also beyond and beneath. Before and after. They are bits of Divine made substance so we could know them. Some people who study them devoutly go mad.”  
  
“The person that wrote this book…”  
  
“Septimus Signus. An expert on the lore of the Scrolls.”  
  
“Where is he?”  
  
“Don’t know. Haven't heard from him in months. He went off north into the ice wastes, chasing after some artifact or another.”  
  
Agmaer suppressed a sigh of disappointment, and turned to Jenassa. “Now what?”

  
  
*******

  
“I think we should try to find Signus. Weather shouldn't get any worse than it already is.” Agmaer looked up from the map spread across his bed.  
  
“It seems like madness to me.”  
  
“Auerelie and Serana are already looking for one scroll. We should find the other one.” He pursed his lips as his finger traced paths along the map’s surface. “The faster, the better, right?”  
  
Jenassa rubbed her eyes. “I disagree. We help no one getting lost in an icy wasteland miles from any civilization.”  
  
“But how many leads do you actually think we’ll find about the Scrolls? We’ll… send messages to Fort Dawnguard. That way if something does happen, they’ll know where we were and where we’re going.”  
  
“There’s no talking you out of this, is there?”  
  
“Nope,” he replied cheerfully.  
  
“Gods, preserve me.”

  
  
*******

  
The northern border of Skyrim stretched along a sea nearly enclosed in massive sheets of ice. There was the occasional tiny island, dotted with snow or barren shrubs. Jenassa could see the skeletal remains of ships wrecked against ice jutting out of the water. She could not imagine anyone being able to survive here. The sun was hidden behind thick, dark clouds that only promised more snow.  
  
Agmaer kept to the edge of the shore as much as possible. He had a decent idea where to start their search. Even though he knew that she would hate it, he kept an eye on Jenassa. Even being built for the extreme cold, he was miserable here.  
  
There took only short breaks as they trekked across the ice plains. They both feared thin ice or worsening weather, but they pushed on. Jenassa was sure that she had never in her life been so cold; she could feel it down in her bones. She hated to admit it, but she stayed pressed in close to Agmaer any time they stopped. She was not entirely sure that they had not wandered into a plane of Oblivion.  
  
It took five days to find Septimus Signus’ outpost. They were both stiff and frozen, hardly able to put one foot in front of the other. Just coming in from the wind was a reprieve. Agmaer turned to Jenassa, wanting to smile, but his face hurt too much. He reached out with thickly gloved hands and started to dust ice from her clothes. He did feel bad dragging her all the way out here, and he prayed that this was not for nothing.  
  
Septimus himself waited at the bottom of the cavern. He stood in front of a massive device with locks and gears. Agmaer approached slowly. “Hello? Are you Septimus Signus?”  
  
The man turned to them, his rheumy eyes unfocused. “I am Septimus. Septimus is me.”  
  
Agmaer frowned. “We came to talk to you about the Elder Scrolls.”  
  
Septimus laughed, a raspy sound. “Elder Scrolls! Indeed. The Empire. They absconded with them. Or so they think.” His cackle echoed loudly in the small cavern. “The ones they saw. The ones they thought they saw. I know of one. Forgotten. Sequestered. But I cannot go to it, not poor Septimus, for I... I have arisen beyond its grasp.” He reached toward them.  
  
“There where is it, old man?” Jenassa had clearly run out of patience.  
  
Septimus muttered to himself for a moment, having seemingly forgotten about them. Agmaer opened his mouth to ask again when the mage turned to them suddenly. “Here. Well, here as in this plane. Mundus. Tamriel. Nearby, relatively speaking. On the cosmological scale, it's all nearby.”  
  
Agmaer watched Septimus sway and mumble, his attention caught between them and the device sticking out of the ice. “Are… you okay?”  
  
“Oh, I am well. I will be well. Well to be within the will inside the walls.” He laughed. “You ask about the scrolls. I've seen enough to know their fabric. The warp of air, the weft of time. But no, it is not in my possession.”  
  
“Then can you actually help us find it?” Agmaer was unnerved by his strange behavior.  
  
“One block lifts the other. Septimus will give what you want, but you must bring him something in return.”  
  
Agmaer looked at the huge device behind Septimus. “It has something to do that… thing?”  
  
“Ooooh, an observant one. How clever to ask of Septimus.” He grinned, showing off yellowed teeth. “The ice entombs the heart. The bane of Kagrenac and Dagoth Ur! To harness it is to know. The fundaments. The dwemer lockbox hides it from me. The Elder Scroll gives insight deeper than the deep ones, though. To bring about the opening.”  
  
“Agmaer, this is clearly getting us nowhere.” She scowled. “This… _addled fool_ isn’t going to help us.”  
  
“Help! Oh, Septimus will help! One block lifts the other. Septimus will give what you want, but you must bring him something in return.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing on Jenassa. “Oh, a _brutish one_. Septimus has no fear of you.”  
  
Agmaer placed himself between them. “Hey! Don’t talk to her like that.”  
  
“You see this masterwork of the dwemer?” He turned to the device, arms outstretched. “Deep inside their greatest knowings. Septimus is clever among men, but he is but an idiot child compared to the dullest of the dwemer.” He clapped his hands.

“Lucky then they left behind their own way of reading the Elder Scrolls. In the depths of Blackreach one yet lies.” He looked at them with a thoughtful expression, his head tilted to the side. “Have you heard of Blackreach?”  
  
Agmaer held onto Jenassa’s arm and took a step back. “And the Elder Scroll? It’s there, and we can keep it?”  
  
“Cast upon where dwemer cities slept, the yearning spire hidden learnings kept. Under deep. Below the dark. The hidden keep. Tower Mzark. Alftand. The point of puncture, of first entry, of the tapping. Delve to its limits, and Blackreach lies just beyond. But not all can enter there. Only Septimus knows the hidden key to loose the lock to jump beneath the deathly rock.” He laughed, the sound bouncing loudly around them.  
  
“What is this key? How do we get there? I don’t understand.”  
  
“Two things I have for you. Two shapes. One edged, one round. The round one, for tuning. Dwemer music is soft and subtle, and needed to open their cleverest gates. The edged lexicon, for inscribing. To us, a hunk of metal. To the dwemer, a full library of knowings. But... empty. Find Mzark and its sky-dome. The machinations there will read the Scroll and lay the lore upon the cube. Trust Septimus. He knows you can know.” He looked gleeful as he started digging through his possessions. He came away with two objects, and handed one to Agmaer.  
  
“The deepest doors of dwemer listen for singing. It plays the attitude of notes proper for opening. Can you not hear it? Too low for hearings?”  
  
He handed the other item to Jenassa. “To glimpse the world inside an Elder Scroll can damage the eyes. Or the mind, as it has to Septimus. The dwemer found a loophole, as they always do. To focus the knowledge away and inside without harm. Place the lexicon into their contraption and focus the knowings into it. When it brims with glow, bring it back and Septimus can read once more.”  
  
Agmaer turned the sphere over in his hands. “What are you looking for?”  
  
“This dwemer lockbox! Look upon it and wonder. Inside is the heart. The heart of a god! The heart of you. And me. But it was hidden away. Not by the dwarves, you see. They were already gone. Someone else. Unseen. Unknown. Found the heart, and with a flair for the ironical, used dwarven trickery to lock it away. The scroll will give the deep vision needed to open it. For not even the strongest machinations of the dwemer can hold off the all-sight given by an Elder Scroll.”  
  
“More gibberish,” Jenassa complained as she added the cube to her bag. “No one can really explain what an Elder Scroll really is.”  
  
Septimus grinned. “Yes! Yes! You know!” He grabbed Agmaer’s arm, shaking him. “She knows! The Scrolls! You look to your left, you see one way. You look to your right, you see another. But neither is any harder than the opposite. But the Elder Scrolls... they look left and right in the stream of time. The future and past are as one: Sometimes they even look up. What do they see then? What if they dive in? Then the madness begins.”  
  
Agmaer gently pulled away. “I think… that’s answers our questions.”  
  
“Septimus waits for the knowings.”

  
  
*******

  
It took them a week to make it back to Winterhold. The trip was harder on Jenassa than she let on, and Agmaer figured they could stay at the inn until she was feeling up to more traveling. He had no way of knowing how long they would be gone, and he suddenly missed Auerelie with a sharp ache.  
  
Jenassa became ill, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep, but Agmaer’s fretting was distracting. Knowing he meant well kept her from stabbing him. She could not blame him for being restless though. She felt that way, too. They still had such a long way to go, and if the Gods favored them, an Elder Scroll would be their prize.


	13. Discerning the Transmundane

Alftand was a sprawling Dwarven ruin southwest of Winterhold. Most of the ruins were entombed in ice, leaving only the spires of the tallest towers visible. The place gave Agmaer an uneasy feeling, and it was clear by the look on her face that Jenassa felt the same.

After two weeks of hard travel, they were already exhausted, and there did not even seem to be a way to access any of the towers. They spent the better part of the day poking through the remains of an expedition campsite. There were no bodies, but that did not put them as ease. Agmaer found a journal, but most of the pages had rotten away.

There were only fragments:

“... _ hold off any others _ …”

“... _ a great brute of a woman _ …”

“... _ ice is proving difficult _ …”

“... _ a storm is coming. _ ”

Jenassa looked down at a great crack in the ice. She could not see the bottom, only hear the wind whistling through the crevice. “They must have found a way down there.” She was doing everything she could to keep her teeth from chattering. “I doubt they just left. Dwemer artifacts sell well.”

Agmaer peered over the edge then started carefully along the length of the crevice. Jenassa trailed some ways behind. The ground slowly started to slope upward, and gaining traction in the snow became difficult.

A chunk of ice gave away, and Agmaer could not even cry out as he fell. Jenassa struggled through the snow, her legs burning, and her chest rattling with the cold. “Agmaer!” She refused to think the worst until she saw it for herself.

After a moment, there was a reply of, “Jenassa.” Agmaer was only a few feet below on a ledge jutting out from the ice.

“Gods, you took twenty years off my life.” She started to dig through her pack for some rope. “Auerelie will kill me if anything happens to you.”

“Jenassa!” His voice echoed. “There’s a bridge down here!”

She secured the rope and made her way down. Agmaer looked no worse for wear, but that did not stop her from checking him over. And there was a bridge, or at least what was left of one. Rotting planks of wood hugged the wall, spiraling down into the dark. “That will never hold.”

Agmaer sighed. “That has to be how that expedition got inside. It’s the only guarantee we got.”

“Yeah, and if it doesn’t go anywhere, we’re going to slowly freeze to death in this pit. Not how I pictured going out.”

“We’ve come too far to turn back now. The Dawnguard is counting on us to find that scroll.” He fished out his own length of rope, hoping it was enough to reach the bridge.

Jenassa cut off as much her rope as possible, tying it with Agmaer’s. He insisted on going first, and she watched with her heart in her throat as he swayed dangerously in the wind on his way down. She did not breathe until he touched down on the first step. He held onto the rope as he tested the wood and prayed that it could take the weight.

After securing herself, Jenassa made the descent. She was afraid, and each gust of wind that knocked into her made her fingers lock that much tighter on the rope. Just before she touched down, she murmured to herself, “Though our spirits may be low, and danger lurks beyond the light, I am confident that They will never abandon us again.”

 

*******

 

Agmaer was correct. The bridge lead into a long, narrow tunnel that took them deeper into the earth.They lit torches, and it was a welcome warmth. It did not take long to stumble upon the signs of earlier explorers. They saw abandoned tools and moldering creates of food.

“I’m… kind of scared of what we’ll find down here.” Agmaer’s voice was hardly above a whisper, but it still echoed the in the tight space.

“Good. Fear will keep you from doing anything stupid.”

“Why are you and Auerelie always expecting me to do something stupid?”

Jenassa gave him a cutting look that showed exactly what she thought of that question. “Come on, let’s find somewhere to rest for a while.”

They set themselves up in what was clearly an old campsite. The food they ate was bland but filling. All Jenassa wanted to do was sleep, but that felt dangerous in the cold. She wondered if she would ever be warm again. Her legs still burned, and she felt her breath catch on each inhale. She did not want to think about getting sick in this place.

Agmaer did not feel the chill as his companion did, and he did not give voice to the concerns he had about that. He chewed steadily on a piece of dried horker meat and tried not to think about all the ways this quest could go horribly wrong.

Jenassa kept watch while Agmaer slept for a few hours, but it was fitful at best for him. After rechecking their supplies, they decided to move on. As Jenassa was strapping on her pack, Agmaer held out a small bottle. She eyed it speculatively.

He flashed her a grin. “Don’t worry. I didn’t make it or anything. Florentius did. I think you should go ahead and take it.”

She held up the bottle up to the torchlight, and it threw prisms of bright red light across the ice walls. “What is this?”

“He said it was a potion to fortify fire. I’m not really sure what you’d do with it, but he said you would know.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” After tucking the potion away, she motioned for him to follow.

 

*******

 

Jenassa became more and more tense as they went on. It was becoming very clear that the lost expedition was much more recent than they first thought. She kicked aside several empty skooma bottles. There was an abandoned satchel with its contents strewn across the ground.

They both froze when a voice carried from a distance: “Where is it? I know you were trying to keep it for yourself J'zhar.”

Agmaer drew one of his axes, and Jenassa fingered one of her throwing knives.

The rasping voice echoed around them, desperate and angry: “No! There's got to be more skooma... Shut up! Shut up! Don't lie to me J'zhar!”

Agmaer snuffed out his torch.

“You hid it! You always try to steal it from me!”

Jenassa retreated slightly, letting Agmaer take point.

“You always try to keep it for yourself!”

They rounded a sharp bend.

There was movement in the gloom.

A snuffling sound, the grating of metal.

Then a hiss: “What? Who is this, Brother? Another of the smooth skins looking for food? But this one wasn't trapped with us…”

A khajiit appeared out of the dark, and Agmaer barely had time to deflect their claws. Putting some distance between them, he could see the patchy, matted fur. The khajiit was covered in old blood, and fresh blood seeped from between his teeth as he growled.

Agmaer braced himself for another attack, but it did not come. The khajiit suddenly staggered back, a knife sticking out of his throat. “Poisoned,” Jenassa said as she watched him convulse with bloody foam bubbling up from his mouth.

Agmaer knew that they were defending themselves, but for some reason, that death felt cruel. Jenassa pulled her knife free and wiped the blade clean on the khajiit’s clothes. Her nose wrinkled at the stink of skooma, and she felt that she did him a favor. She looked back at Agmaer, her red eyes gleaming eerily. After a few seconds, her expression softened. “Come. Let’s move on.”

 

*******

 

Eventually, the ice gave way to stone. A gush of hot air greeted them as they stepped into the ruin proper. It was amazing that after almost four thousand years, the machines still worked, all whirring gears and steam pumps and the rush of water through massive pipes. Even most of the sconces still burned bright. Everything looked frozen in time, just waiting for someone to come and live in it again. Agmaer ran his fingers along some of intricate carvings winding around a pillar. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“I had a patron a years ago. He was a scholar… adventurer. Anyway, he loved exploring ruins like this.” Jenassa nudged him with her elbow. “Be careful. Even after all this time, traps still work. And bandits and worse infest these places like skeevers.”

“I still can’t believe that everything is still lit up.” Agmaer turned to her with a smile. “How mad would you be if I said I wanted to take something back to Auerelie?”

Jenassa sighed but looked unsurprised. “So long as it’s on the way.” She huffed. “You’re already bringing her an Elder Scroll. Don’t think there’s anything to top that.” She peered around the next corner, glad to see an empty hall. “You two are disgustingly sweet together.”

Agmaer ducked his head, unable to respond to that.

 

*******

 

They both sighed heavily at the sight of a dead wood elf tucked behind leaking pipes. There were signs of a battle, and Agmaer could not help but feel sorrow at the infected arrow wound in the elf’s chest.

Jenassa snapped off the end of the arrow, studying it. “This doesn’t look familiar to me.” She frowned.

“You can tell just by looking?”

She hummed in response as she looked around for an intact arrow, which she found a few feet away. The arrow was heavy for its size, dark, and hard but not made of wood. “This looks like chitin. But… I’m not sure what kind.”

Agmaer nodded, but did not know what she was talking about.

Jenassa rolled her eyes. “Chitin. Hard, fibrous exoskeletons of insects. My people use it to make weapons and armor. I just don’t know what this particular kind is.” She added the arrow to her quiver. “I don’t like that.”

“You’re the master archer,” he replied with a strained smile.

The pair continued on, and the further they got without meeting resistance, the more apprehensive they became.

Jenassa grabbed Agmaer’s arm before he could descend a flight of crumbling stairs. She pulled him back a few steps, her expression grim. She did not want to risk making noise, so she turned his head to look at something moving in the murky dark below. He moved to draw his axe, but she stopped him then shook her head.

Jenassa dropped to a crouch after drawing her bow. Slowly, she inched forward, making sure to hug the wall as much as possible. Then she waited.

She could barely make out the soft slide of footsteps. Something reflected in the dark, and she tracked the movement with an arrow nocked. Agmaer nearly jumped she let the arrow fly. Suddenly, there was the harsh sound of ragged breath then a thump against the stone floor.

They made their way down, Jenassa leading, and Agmaer was careful to step just as she did. At the bottom of the stairs, there was a disfigured, pallid creature with an arrow sticking in its neck. Agmaer watched nearly black blood ooze from the wound.

Jenassa turned the thing over, revealing an eyeless creature with craggy skin and a twisted mouth full of sharp teeth. “Nerevar, protect us.”

“Wha…”

“Falmer.” She had never seen one before, but she had heard tales from fellow mercenaries. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to envision surviving this place. A heavy, cold feeling settled in her stomach, but she remembered that she had a promise to keep. She told Auerelie that she would bring Agmaer back.

“Jenassa?” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“You will do exactly what I say.” She turned to him. “I don’t want to die in this place.”

Agmaer could only nod.

 

*******

 

A feeling of dread settled over the both of them, and the only way to go was forward. Despite Jenassa’s experience and Agmaer being a quick study, they could have never prepared for this fight.

There were entire nests of falmer, and the creatures fought ferociously with wordless screams of anger that only drew more to them. Jenassa collected the chitin arrows as they went, the material able to pierce the falmers’ tough skin easily. Agmaer cracked the blade of one of his axes against a falmer shield and was forced to take up one of their weapons.

The maze of the grand halls appeared never ending, and there was the fear that they were just traveling in circles. Sleep was snatched in intervals lasting only minutes. The sounds of the machinery, the rushing of water, and every sound that might be an enemy kept them awake.

Jenassa did not know how long they had been underground, but every second was oppressive. The damp and the cold made a home in her chest, and it was a struggle to keep from coughing. She knew that Agmaer was worried, but there was nothing they could do down here.

When they stopped to rest, Agmaer refused to take no for an answer about making a fire. They still had dried meats, which he used to make broth. Her hands shook when she took the bowl.

“Jenassa.” His concerned expression was much too familiar.

“Don’t,” she cut him off sharply. She took a few sips of broth, feeling the heat curl up in her stomach.

“You’re sick.”

“It doesn’t matter. We’re here now, and there’s no going back.” Her expression tightened. “Agmaer…” She licked her lips. “If I… if I become a liability, leave me behind.”

He looked as though her words hurt him physically. “I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t.” He rubbed his eyes. “I won’t leave you here.”

Unexpectedly, Jenassa felt her eyes flood with tears. “I don’t want to die in the dark.” She bowed her head to avoid his eyes. “But please… if it gets too bad you have to go on. The Dawnguard needs that scroll, and Auerelie needs you.”

Agmaer kneeled down in front of her, peering up into her face. “Jen, I  _ will not _ .” He placed his hands on her cheeks, hating how cool she was. “You’re my friend.” He kissed her forehead then whispered the words again against her brow.

 

*******

 

The smell of rotting flesh and sharp copper of blood choked them. Laid out on metal racks was what was left of two humans. Insects had burrowed into the meat, their wriggling bodies making soft, squishy noises. Agmaer vomited into a nearby urn.

Jenassa tried to only breath from her mouth, and tried desperately to ignore her roiling stomach. There were grates with chunks of meat roasting, and the fires sputtered under the dripping fat.

There was no warning when a falmer burst from the shadows. Jenassa avoided their club only to fall over one of the cooking grates. Agmaer leaped forward, using both of his axes to redirect the blow. The creature hissed, spittle dripping down their chin.

“Down!”

Agmaer dropped at command, and Jenassa threw red-hot coals in the falmer’s face. That sent them wailing, and Agmaer separated their head from their shoulders. They feared more of the creatures were nearby and ran.

The ruins only spiraled further down into the depths of the earth, and neither of them wanted to acknowledge the shared thought of never seeing the sun again. The dwemer traps still worked, and it was a honest relief to fight mechanical spiders and dwarven spheres.

Jenassa’s cough got worse and to the point where they had to stop more frequently. Agmaer knew she was trying to hide just how sick she was, but he could see it. Her skin had washed out into a sickly yellow-gray, and her eyes looked dark, like a light slowly going out. Once, he caught her trying to shove a blood-spattered cloth into her pocket after having a coughing fit.

She pushed forward.

 

*******

 

The Attunement Sphere that had been given to Agmaer fit into the opening of a strange mechanism, which spiraled open and retracted into stairs leading into Blackreach. Jenassa felt cold sweat all over, and she could no longer hold her bow because of how badly her hands shook. Peering into a space deeper than dark terrified her. Agmaer squeezed her hand before continuing on.

Blackreach was an immense cavern large enough to house a city. The dark was punctuated by giant bioluminescent mushrooms and crystals that dotted the ceiling like stars. It was at once awe inspiring and terrible. They stood on an entrance platform, and it looked out across the space. It appeared endless.

Jenassa flexed her fingers to force some feeling back into her hands. The tremors were worsening, and now she could not breathe in too deep lest it triggered a coughing fit. Agmaer watched her closely, but he felt helpless.

The air was so heavy that it was like breathing in water vapor. Despite everything, Blackreach had an alien beauty. Their steps echoed, and it made them hyper aware of their surroundings.

The falmer here were just as thick here as they were in the ruins above. Agmaer had to do most of the fighting, and after two weeks, the strain was taking its toll. Jenassa was mostly a lookout and a distraction. She hated it.

A blast of electricity flew by them, and they ran for cover.

The next shot of lightning was so close that Jenassa could feel the static making her hair stand on end. She tucked her face into her elbow to smother her cough. Agmaer’s eyes darted around wildly, obviously looking for a way around.

They did not get much time.

The falmer mage fell on them with powerful spells, hurling frost and lightning. The best they could do was dodge and stay under constant cover.

Jenassa tried to push Agmaer away, but he would not budge. She hated him.

After the latest barrage of spells, Jenassa took off running, drawing the mage’s attention. Agmaer bit back a stream of obscenities. He watched his friend weave around rocks and the crumbling remains of stone spires.

A bolt of lightning caught her in the back, and her muscles immediately seized up.

She could not breathe.

Her vision blurred.

A hot spray of blood landed across the back of her head and ran down her face.

She cried out when a pair of hands turned her over. Agmaer’s face took up her entire field of vision. He rubbed his hands across her face, trying to wipe away as much of the blood as he could. He managed to get her to her feet though he had to take most of her weight.

Jenassa saw the falmer mage’s head near where her own had been and their body several feet away. Agmaer tucked her into a tight crevice between rocks. Her body erupted with spasming coughs. It took nearly an hour before she could even attempt to walk on her own.

Again, Agmaer would not leave her.

 

*******

 

The Tower of Mzark lay at the end of a long stone bridge, and with the door in sight, the pair moved as quickly as they could to the entrance. When they got half way over the bridge, a portcullis on the side of the tower opened. A lumbering dwemer animunculi, the steam centurion barred the way.

Agmaer reeled back, his eyes wide, and face pale. Jenassa shook her head. They would never get past it.

The centurion belched clouds of hot steam, its gears whirring loudly. At the end of one arm was a massive hammer and on the other, an axe with a blade spanning nearly six feet.

Agmaer locked his hand around Jenassa’s wrist and pulled her back. “We can’t! Come on!”

She dug in her heels. “The door is right there.” She pulled out the red potion and shoved Agmaer aside to drink it. “I’ll cover you!” The liquid instantly burned in her veins. Wisps of heat rose from her skin.

Agmaer watched in horror as crimson light flooded her veins like tiny rivers of lava. Brighter and brighter, she banished the darkness, and the centurion came to meet her. The construct swung its maul, and Jenassa exploded into flame.

Agmaer had to jump from the side of the bridge and into the frigid water below. The overwhelming cold stole his breath away. He was lucky that there was no real current to fight. He pushed from the bottom and broke through the surface. Getting back onto the bridge was harder. He was weighed down with water, malnourishment, and exhaustion. His stiff fingers scrabbled at the rough stone, desperate for purchase.

He pulled himself up, limbs shaking. Behind him, there was the roar of fire and screeching metal. He looked up.

Jenassa burned, her body a vessel for fire, the element of her people. The centurion’s hammer took out a chunk of the bridge, and she returned the blow with bolts of flame.

Agmaer shook himself out of his stupor. The tower’s door was partially rusted, and forcing it open made an unholy, high-pitched grating noise. It drew the centurion’s attention. He barely had time to close the door before it blew out superheated steam.

 

*******

 

The sounds of the battle were muffled, and he warred with himself about going back out to fight. He turned to the steep ramp curling up the side of the tower, and his feet dragged as he made the climb.

At the top, Agmaer found a device beyond his imagining. Unknown to him, it was a fully intact Dwemer Oculory. He studied the glass discs set into the circular arms of the machine. On a ledge overlooking the oculory was a series of buttons set into metal pedestals. He dropped his pack and turned his attention to what was obviously a puzzle.

Pressing the buttons made the lenses change position. It took nearly an hour to figure out the correct sequence. Agmaer suddenly remembered the lexicon given to Jenassa by Septimus Signus. It did not matter, he decided. He seethed at how easily the old man sent them into this place.

He startled when the lenses parted and a large, cylindrical container lowered to the floor. Agmaer nearly fell in his haste to get to the bottom of the ramp. Upon his approach, the container opened to reveal an Elder Scroll.

Agmaer stared very source of the elder knowledge, a bit of time and space made tangible. He was almost afraid to touch it. It shone with its own light and was warm to the touch. The scroll was far heavier than it looked, and Agmaer nearly dropped it.

The lights of the oculory dimmed then flickered out.

Jenassa.

Agmaer laid the Elder Scroll down before racing to the door. It was another battle to pry the door open just enough to squeeze outside. His eyes first found the ruined steam centurion. It was half melted and the rest twisted and warped. Several feet ahead of that, there was a figure lying in blackened circle of scorched stone.

He dropped to his knees, his hands outstretched but hesitant to touch. The lump of hardened ash was vaguely person shaped and still smoldering.

“Please, please.” Tears flooded his eyes. “Mighty Shor, please.” Charcoal came away on his hands.

He took a piece of scrap metal lying nearby and tapped the shell until it cracked. The ash abruptly fell away to reveal his friend.

Jenassa was curled up, her head tucked in her arms. The fire had burnt away not only her clothing but all her hair as well. Her skin was a shiny blue-gray. Agmaer pulled off his cloak and wrapped it around her.

She awoke with a gasp.

“Jenassa!” He let her go. “It’s me. It’s me.”

Her eyes were still fire-bright. “I saw them. I saw them.” She held onto Agmaer as though he were saving her from drowning.

“Hey,” he whispered, “You’re okay.” He tightened the cloak around her. “What did you see?”

“The ancestors,” she replied, her voice rough, “ _ the _ ancestor.”

He frowned. “Your ancestors?”

She nodded frantically. “Boethiah, the god-ancestor. They saw me.” Her chest heaved. “They touched me.” She was trembling.

Agmaer helped her up and now worried over how hot her skin was. Her legs wobbled, hardly able to keep her upright. He took her into the tower and set her down next to the Elder Scroll. She fell asleep there while he went to scavenge supplies.

Jenassa’s travel pack was still intact since she had the forethought to throw it far behind her before the battle. They had precious little food, and Agmaer did not know how far they were from the surface.

He found out that the Tower of Mzark had a lift, and while he gathered up their supplies and Jenassa on the platform, he prayed that it went up. The dunmer did not respond when he pulled the lever.

The gears whined and sparked before turning properly. With a great shudder, the lift pushed them to the surface. It opened up into a gatehouse.

The sun was high in the sky, burning almost white. Still, it was cold, and the wind was sharp.

Agmaer dropped down next to Jenassa, tears beginning to stream down his face. “Gods, we made it.” He curled himself around her and listened to her breathe while he whispered prayers to Talos.

 

*******

 

Jenassa woke suddenly, her body shaking violently. Agmaer was next to her, sleeping. The sun was gone, and she stared up at the sky in reverence at the stars and moons. Her hands ran over the strange smoothness of her skin. She found she had no hair. She found that she could breathe freely. She wept.


	14. Echoes Beyond Death

Castle Volkihar jutted through the icy mist as the boat slowly approached the island. Auerelie shuddered and remembered what happened the last time she was there. She watched Serana out of the corner of her eye, and honestly, the vampire did not look any better than she felt.

“The docks are just ahead.” Serana pointed the way. “They haven’t been used in years, so it should be easy to get inside.”

“Might not be so easy once we’re actually inside.”

Serana nodded. “I know.” She sighed. “Look… I know you don’t want to do this. I can’t blame you.”

“What will you do if we find your mother?” Auerelie turned to Serana, her expression difficult to read.

“I've been asking myself the same thing for weeks. She was so sure of what we did to my father. I couldn't help but go along with her. I never thought of the cost.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now, I guess. I’m guilty, same as them.”

Auerelie said nothing, but she caught Serana’s gaze. Most people were terrified to look a vampire in the eye, but Serana found Auerelie’s eyes to be quite odd. They were so intense, molten gold, and gleaming in the fog. The elf looked at her though she were intending to pin her open to see inside.

The rest of the trip was quiet, broken only by the sound of the waves and the sea birds circling overhead.

Crumbling, and thick with overgrown, spiky grass, the dock was hard to navigate. They were forced to abandon the boat offshore and tread the icy sea.

Auerelie hacked a path through the vegetation, grateful for a chance to generate warmth. Much of the this side of the castle was unstable, and at some point, part of the dock fell into the sea. Picking their way through the crumbling stone to the entrance was slow and dangerous work.

 

*******

 

The entrance into the castle led into a sprawling series of hallways. Auerelie felt her apprehension ratchet up with every step. It did not help that she could barely see, but she was too afraid of attracting the wrong kind of attention to shed light. She ignored the soft squelching sounds of her boots against rotted carpet. Occasionally, she could see just the hint of movement in her periphery; she wondered if Serana could see it too. She did not want to think about what was watching them in the dark.

Serana was not familiar with this part of the castle, and more than once they found themselves turned around or cut off at a dead end.

Auerelie descended a short flight of stairs into ankle deep water. The air was heavy with the smell of mold and the tang of copper.

Suddenly, Serana turned flinging out a bolt of lightning, which struck one of those vicious shadow hounds. Two sets of red eyes pierced the darkness.

Auerelie shot off a blinding beam of light with one hand and a bolt of fire with the other. That took care of one hound, and Serana impaled the other on an icy spear.

“I would bet someone heard that,” Auerelie murmured.

Auerelie was correct and the pair was forced to face off against vampires and waves of draugr. They fought well together as they cleared the deeper sections of the castle. Just when Auerelie started to flag, Serana pulled her through a small door and out into a ruined courtyard.

It was night, and the moons were distant slivers outshone by the stars. The air was much cleaner here, and Auerelie took some time to just breathe in deeply.

“This… was my mother’s garden.” Serana turned around, her expression forlorn. “I wish you could have seen it. Can you imagine how beautiful something can be when it’s tended to by a master for centuries?”

Auerelie tried to picture a garden bursting with every color imaginable. She wondered if it compared to some of the conservatories and greenhouses in the Summerset Isles. She watched Serana circle the gardens before stopping in front of the moon dial that dominated the courtyard, which turned out to be a front for a secret passageway.

 

*******

 

With contemplative disquiet, Auerelie looked down into the swirling portal that supposedly led to the Soul Cairn. She trusted Serana to take her this far, but it was difficult to extend that trust just a little bit more. Cold air blew up from the opening, and it turned her breath to fog.

Slowly, Auerelie stepped forward and when she placed a foot on the first step, white-hot pain exploded in her chest. She did not have the breath to cry out, and only seconds later, Serana pulled her back onto the platform.

“Hey, hey. You’re alright.” Serana’s worried expression blocked the portal from view. “I’m sorry.”

The pain slowly subsided, but Auerelie could still feel the echo of it in her chest. She was shaking and did not realize how badly until Serana wrapped her arms around her to keep her still.

“Wha… what happened? What happened?” She tried to take in deep, steady breath, but the air shuddered in her lungs.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think…” Serana sighed. “The Soul Cairn is always… insatiable in its need for souls. It's trying to take your life essence as the payment for entry.”

Auerelie shook her head. “So, we’re here for nothing?” She got to her feet with Serana’s help. “Then there’s no way I can go through the portal?”

“Maybe. We could just ‘pay the toll’ another way.” Serana gave Auerelie a thoughtful look. “Vampires aren’t counted among the living--”

“No,” Auerelie forcefully interrupted. “No,” she repeated quietly.

Serana nodded. “I understand. Well, It wants a soul, so we give it a soul. Yours.”

Auerelie’s brow wrinkled. “How? Wouldn’t that just… kill me?”

“My mother taught me a trick or two.” She sighed. “You probably won’t like this either, but I could partially soul trap you and offer that gem to the Ideal Masters. It might be enough to satisfy them.”

“You can do that?”

“It’s going to make you weaker. But we might be able to fix that once we're inside. Maybe. I know that’s not a much better option.”

“But there’s no other way.” Auerelie looked down at the entrance to the Soul Cairn. She did not want to admit that she was afraid. “But we also need that scroll.”

“I'm sorry. I wish I knew a better way, something that would be easier for you.”

“I know.” She forced a smile. “And thank you. I know this whole thing has been… hard.” Her fingers twisted into the folds of her robes, hoping to hide how her hands were shaking. “Soul trap me. I can’t…”

“No, I understand. I just need you to be sure.”

Auerelie nodded. “Sure as I can be. But can I ask you for a favor?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“If this doesn’t work.” She inhaled deeply. “If this doesn’t work… please don’t tell Agmaer this was how I died. I think… it would hurt him too much.” Unexpectedly, tears flooded her eyes. “He has my pendant. Tell him to keep it.”

For a second, Serana looked absolutely stricken as though she had overlooked the fragility of mortality. “Auerelie, please. Just trust me with this. I know it’s hard, but I  _ can _ do this, and you’re going to live through it.”

“Go ahead. I’m ready.”

Serana held out a large soul gem and her other hand glowed with ghostly luminescence. There was only a flash of light, and Auerelie’s breath was stolen away.

“That’s it.” Serana held up the soul gem, which brimmed with power.

 

*******

 

The Soul Cairn was a cold place with a gloomy landscape the seemingly stretched on forever. Crystal spires broke through the ground like jagged teeth. Crumbling buildings lined what was left of a cobblestone road. Flickers of light moved through the air, and everything was lit with the sickly violet light of the sky.

Auerelie stuck close to Serana, trying to avoid the mournful souls that would be trapped here for eternity. She had wondered where souls went after their power spent from soul gems. Now, she had her answer, and it left her stunned and fearful.

She did not realize how weak Serana’s spell left her until they ran into some of the skeletal guardians that roamed the land. Her magic sparked at her fingertips, and she could feel how stretched thin her spirit was. Luckily, she was still armed with physical weapons, and she parried a blow with her ebony blade.

Contrarily, Serana’s power had a deeper pool of energy to tap into. The magic of the Soul Cairn seeped through her, and she used it to produce powerful and devastating spells.

Finding Valerica took longer than Auerelie would have liked. Every minute she spent in the realm allowed the power of the Ideal Masters to stain her soul. The cairn pulled at her in a way that it had not before, almost settling in around her.

In the distance, a massive castle with energy spires dominated the horizon. They found Valerica there, trapped behind a barrier. There was a long moment of shock and disbelief as mother and daughter stared at each other.

Serana stepped up as closely as the barrier would allow her. “Mother. I… can’t believe it. I was starting to think I would never see you again.”

Serana looked a lot like her mother, and it made Auerelie wonder if she turned out anything like her own. She stayed behind Serana, letting them talk after being separated for a millennium.

Valerica’s face hardened suddenly. “Why are you here? Where is your father?”

“He doesn’t know we’re here.” Serana quickly smoothed out her hurt expression. “We’re here about the prophecy. To stop father before it goes too far. We need the Elder Scroll.”

Valerica frowned deeply. “We?” She motioned her daughter out of the way, and Auerelie reluctantly stepped forward. “You.” She glanced over at Serana then back again. “Who are you? How has it come to pass that a vampire hunter is in the company of my daughter?”

How did she know. Auerelie’s spine straightened under Valerica’s heavy gaze. “My name is Auerelie. I found Serana in Dimhollow Crypt. And I am indeed a vampire hunter.” She figured there was no point in lying.

“And it pains me think you'd travel with Serana under the guise her protector. For what?” Valerica’s eyes narrowed. “I very much doubt that your intentions are noble.”

“We need to stop Harkon, and to do that we need the Elder Scroll.”

“You think I'd have the audacity to place my own daughter in that tomb for the protection of her Elder Scroll alone?” Valerica truly looked insulted at the gall. “The scrolls are merely a means to an end. The key to the Tyranny of the Sun is Serana.”

Auerelie frowned. “Why her?”

“When I fled Castle Volkihar, I left with two Elder Scrolls. The scroll I presume you found with Serana speaks of Auriel and his arcane weapon. The second scroll declares: The blood of Coldharbour's Daughter will blind the eye of the Dragon."

“I don’t understand.”

“Serana is a pure-blooded vampire. Raised up by Molag Bal himself. We call such confluences the ‘Daughters of Coldharbour’.”

Auerelie swore. “So, that’s what he needed all this time. Serana’s blood.” She glanced over at her companion. “He would just… murder his own daughter?”

“This is why I wanted to protect Serana, and why I've kept the other Elder Scroll as far from her as I possibly could.” Valerica clenched her hands into fists. “And he  _ would _ murder her. He would say that her death was for the good of all vampires.”

Auerelie crossed her arms, and felt irritation itch under her skin. “You know that I would never allow that to happen.”

Serana bowed her head.

Valerica sneered. “No matter what you say, you're still a vampire hunter. You're here because we're abominations in your mind. We’re evil creatures that need to be destroyed.” She bared her fangs, but Auerelie stood her ground. “You care nothing for Serana or our plight.”

“Mother,” Serana interrupted, “Stop.”

“Oh, Serana. If you'd only open your eyes. See that this--”

“This  _ stranger _ has done nothing but be there for me since the moment I woke up from a thousand year sleep.”

“How dare you! I gave up everything I cared about to protect you from that fanatic you call a father!”

“Yes, he's a fanatic… he's changed, and he’ll never be the person I remember from before. But he's still my father. Why can't you understand how that makes me feel?”

“The moment your father discovers your role in the prophecy, that he needs your blood, you’ll be in terrible danger.”

“So, you would rather just imprison me? Lock me away from the world? You never asked me if hiding in that tomb was the best course of action, you just expected me to follow you blindly. Both of you were obsessed with your own paths. Your motivations might have been different, but in the end, I'm still just a pawn to you, too.”

“I'm sorry, Serana.” Valerica sighed heavily. “I've allowed my hatred of your father to estrange us for far too long. Forgive me. And if you want the Elder Scroll, it's yours.”

Auerelie gently touched Serana’s arm then turned her attention to Valerica. “Is the scroll here? You actually have it?”

“Yes,” she replied, eying her speculatively. “I've kept it safely secured here ever since I was imprisoned. And to break this barrier, you have to destroy the Keepers that maintain it. Do that, and the scroll is yours.”

 

*******

 

Serana pulled Auerelie up a sharp incline on their way to one of the spires feeding the barrier around Valerica’s prison. Killing the first Keeper was easy enough, but the other two were spaced far apart. It appeared as though the Soul Cairn went on forever, and the spires never seemed to draw any closer.

“Did you mean what you said to my mother? About protecting me from my father?”

Auerelie gave Serana a tired smile. “I did.” She climbed over the ridge and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the base of one of the spires. “We’ve… become friends.” She let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I never looked to have any.”

“I think of you as my friend. You’ve… been here with me all this time. I don’t know if I can thank you for that.”

“You won’t thank me.” She shook her head. “Not when I lead you to kill your own father. And I’ll understand that once this is all over, if you hate me.”

Serana opened her mouth to reply, but nothing seemed sufficient. She slid down the ridge just in time to blast apart a skeleton pulling itself from the ground.

Auerelie drew her sword, swinging it in a high arc to take the arm off of one of the bonemen guarding the Keeper.

An arrow whizzed by her face, scant inches from her nose. Auerelie reeled back, nearly losing her balance on the uneven terrain.

Serana suddenly appeared, a spear of ice in one hand and a bolt of lightning in the other. She made short work of the skeletons.

The Keeper jumped at them from the shadows. Its features were obscured by black mist, but Auerelie could see two eyes glowing in the darkness.

It brought down a massive great-sword, nearly taking Serana’s head off.

Auerelie rushed to flank it, using the advantage of a lighter weapon. Ebony sparked against bone, and the strength of its blow sent her to the ground.

A surge of heat shot through the air, fire spraying against the Keeper’s chest. It blackened its armor, but it kept advancing.

Auerelie rolled out of the way of its sword and thrust out with her own. She caught her blade between armor plating.

Serana used that distraction to create a lightning storm then the Keeper became nothing more than dust.

The two women took some time to catch their breath. Auerelie, in particular, felt weak limbed, and she hated the way her heart hammered violently in her chest.

“Here’s hoping the last one is easier.”

Auerelie bumped Serana’s shoulder. “A girl can dream.”

The final Keeper gave them little trouble, and they hiked back to the prison as fast as they could.

 

*******

 

Valerica embraced her daughter the moment she made it up the stairs. She took a step back, letting her fingers linger in Serana’s hair. A thousand years. It hit her in a sharp pain behind her ribs. She had not seen her only child for a thousand years.

“Come, there isn’t much time,” Valerica said as she broke away. “There's a dragon that calls itself Durnehviir roaming the Cairn. He was tasked with watching over the Keepers. With them gone, he’s sure to come and investigate.”

Valerica lead them through the castle, keeping a pace just short of running, and when they came out into the castle’s courtyard, a mighty roar shook the ground.

Auerelie looked up and saw the dragon wheeling overhead. All the color drained from her face, and a cold sweat broke out across her brow. How could they hope to fight a dragon, a beast out of legend.

“Durnehviir,” Valerica growled. “Damn, that was quicker than I anticipated.”

Serana stepped toward her mother. “How do we bring down a dragon?”

Auerelie brought up a ward when Durnehviir shot out a blast of violet fire. “Spread out!”

The women fanned out, retreating to different corners of the courtyard.

Durnehviir circled around, spraying the ground with flame, and from the fire rose ghouls armed and armored.

“A dragon necromancer,” Auerelie muttered in disbelief.

Serana and Valerica drew the creatures’ attention, and Auerelie readied herself for Durnehviir to come around again.

The dragon appeared with a ear-splitting roar. He dipped close enough for Auerelie to blast him with lightning.

Durnehviir breathed a firestorm in her direction. Auerelie took shelter behind a stone pillar and the strongest ward she could summon. The heat singed her robes but she was otherwise fine.

Serana and Valerica were able to destroy the ghouls via divide and conquer, but their victory was short lived when Durnehviir raised up another hoard.

Auerelie focused on creating a sphere of ice, making it as powerful as she could. It was still a struggle to hold onto her magicka, but it become easier the longer she remained in the Soul Cairn.

Durnehviir took another drive toward the courtyard, and Auerelie was ready for him.

The moment the dragon was overhead, she released her spell, and it struck Durnehviir’s left wing.

He thought to shrug off the magic, but the ice was not meant to pierce his hide but to spread. And it did. The ice branched out, filling the grooves of his scales and the leathery folds of his wing.

Auerelie watched as Durnehviir’s wing froze solid, and that sent him crashing hard to the earth.

Serana and Valerica were knocked off their feet, and Auerelie had to dodge the pillar that was once her shelter.

Durnehviir growled and gnashed his teeth, and Auerelie swore she could hear words echoing around her in all that noise. She drew her sword and took off running.

Durnehviir was struggling to his feet, and he swung his head around in time for Auerelie to shove her ebony blade through his eye.

A powerful blast sent her flying.

The vampires watched as Durnehviir disintegrated into nothingness.

“Auerelie!” Serana cried out when she saw that the elf had not moved.

When Auerelie opened her eyes, it was under the shelter of both Serana and Valerica.

“I never thought someone could actually defeat that dragon.” Valerica sounded grudgingly impressed.

Auerelie could not really stand on her own, and her breathing was labored. She leaned against Serana until the world came back into focus.

“Here’s the scroll,” Valerica said as she held it out.

“That’s it then?” Serana stared at her mother, memorizing her features.

“Yes.” This was harder than Valerica would have thought.

Auerelie staggered off to find her sword, giving the two women some time. She was surprised that it was Valerica that approached her first.

“Now that you've retrieved the Elder Scroll, you should be on your way. If there's anything I can do before you depart, you must let me know.”

“Can you help me get the rest of my soul back?”

“So my daughter applied some of the lessons I taught her about necromancy, did she?” A faint smile touched her lips. “Don't worry, I think I can help you. Your soul essence was given to the Ideal Masters as payment. You simply need to retrieve the gem Serana used. The moment you touch it, your soul essence will be restored.”

“Do you know where?” Auerelie was shaking. “I have to… I have to--”

“There's an offering altar not terribly far from here,” Valerica interrupted gently. “I'm willing to bet that the gem you're looking for is there.”

Auerelie nodded. “Alright. That’s… thank you.” She managed a weak smile. “You don’t think… I mean Durnehviir just kind of… disappeared. Is he really dead? Can anything  _ really _ die here?”

“Volumes written on Durnehviir allege that he can't be slain by normal means. It appears they were mistaken.” Valerica looked thoughtful. “The soul of a dragon is as resilient as its owner's scaly hide, and it's possible that your killing blow merely displaced Durnehviir's physical form while he reconstitutes himself.”

“So, we might have to fight him again?” Serana sighed.

“Any idea how long we have?”

“Minutes? Hours? Years? I can't even begin to guess. I suggest we don't wait around to find out.”

“Yeah. Good plan.” Auerelie gracelessly sheathed her sword.

With the Elder Scroll, Serana and Auerelie started the journey to reclaim her soul gem.

 

*******

 

The portal back to Tamriel was in sight, but before they could get to it, Durnehviir appeared on a nearby crumbling arch. The dragon’s body was slightly transparent, shimmering in the odd light of the Soul Cairn.

“Stay your weapons. I would speak with you,  _ Qahnaarin _ .”

Auerelie’s eyes widened. “You actually do speak. I thought… I killed you.”

“Cursed, not dead. Doomed to exist in this form for all eternity. Trapped between  _ laas _ and  _ dinok _ , between life and death.”

“Why are you speaking to me?” Her hand strayed to her sword.

“I believe in civility among seasoned warriors, and I find your ear worthy of my words.” Durnehviir made a rumbling sound. “My claws have rent the flesh from innumerable foes, but I have never once been felled on the field of battle. I therefore honor-name you ‘ _ Qahnaarin _ ’, or 'Vanquisher' in your tongue.”

A hysterical laugh burst out of Auerelie. “Well… you made it a battle. A memorable battle.” Her grin was slightly manic. “I found you equally worthy.”

“Your words do me great honor. My desire to speak with you was born from the result of our battle,  _ Qahnaarin _ . I merely wish to respectfully ask a favor of you.”

“A favor? What… could an undead dragon want from me?”

“For countless years I've roamed the Soul Cairn in unintended service to the Ideal Masters. Before this, I roamed the skies above Tamriel. I desire to return there.”

“Oh? Why can’t you just go back then?”

“My time here has taken its toll on me. I share a bond with this dreaded place. If I ventured far from the Soul Cairn, my strength would begin to wane until I was no more.”

“And how could I possibly help with that?”

“I will place my name with you and grant you the right and the power to call my name from Tamriel. Do me this simple honor and I will fight at your side as your  _ Grah-Zeymahzin _ , your ally, and teach you my  _ Thu'um _ .”

Auerelie looked skeptical. “Just… say your name? That’s it?”

“Trivial in your mind, perhaps. For me, it would mean a great deal. I don't require an answer,  _ Qahnaarin _ . Simply speak my name to the heavens when you feel the time is right, and I will answer your call.”

“You keep calling me that.  _ Qahnaarin _ . What does that mean?”

“In my language, the  _ Qahnaarin _ is the Vanquisher, the one who has bested a fellow  _ dovah _ in battle.”

“But I’m not a dragon.”

Durnehviir leaned forward, stretching out his neck as far as he could. His head tilted from side to side as he studied Auerelie. “Forgive me, my instinct was to grant you this title.”

Auerelie was speechless, and she looked over at Serana to make sure that she was not hallucinating. Serana shrugged in response, and Durnehviir simply vanished.

“That… was something.” Auerelie shook her head. “Alright. We have to get back to Fort Dawnguard. Hopefully, Agmaer and Jenassa had luck finding the last scroll.”

“Lead the way,” Serana replied with a soft smile.


	15. The Gathering Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No beta, per usual. Feel free to point out mistakes.

**** Auerelie and Serana started up the main road to Fort Dawnguard just as the sun was rising. They had stopped in Solitude on the way to reclaim their horses. Bear was moody, having been abandoned for so long; Auerelie knew she would have to make it up to him. Stuhn still was not fond of Serana, but he stopped trying to throw her off.

Halfway up the road, they left their mounts with Vori to stable and made the rest of the trek on foot. There had been numerous apparent improvements made to the fort in their absence, and there were clearly more in the works. Auerelie noted the training grounds, and it looked as though Mogrul had a fully functioning smithy up and running. There were even sections of land set aside for farming.

The castle’s interior was brightly lit, but nothing could compare to the sun that flooded in from the skylight. Isran was there directing traffic of both Dawnguard and servants alike. There were a lot more people than when Serana and Auerelie left.

Isran turned at the sound of the doors opening, and he stared at the pair for a moment before shaking himself out of a stupor. “Was starting to think you weren't coming back,” he grumped. “And you have the scroll?”

Serana held up the relic, and the casing blazed gold in the light.

“Damn. You really do have it.” Isran almost smiled. “Get settled in. There’s a lot to fill you in on and even more work to do.”

A loud crash echoed deafeningly in the main chamber. Everyone turned, and Agmaer stood there with an overturned box of tools at his feet. His expressions rapidly cycled through shock, joy, relief, and affection.

Auerelie suddenly had to blink back tears. It had only been a month since they last saw each other, but it seemed as though lifetimes had passed. They both went through unimaginable ordeals in order to obtain their respective Elder Scrolls. Isran took a step back, and Agmaer raced across the room and practically tackled Auerelie with a hug.

He wrapped his arms around her tight enough to make her feel as though he were holding her together. She buried her face in his hair and twisted her hands in the folds of his shirt.

Auerelie murmured thanks in Altmeris over and over again. She could not make herself let him go.

Agmaer breathed in the scent of her then held her back just enough to kiss her, and Auerelie melted into his embrace to return the kiss desperately. She cradled his face in her hands.

Eventually, they parted, but Agmaer still held onto her hands. The others gathered in the hall suddenly turned back to their tasks.

Isran sighed. “Go on. You’re not good for nothing right now.”

 

*******

 

Agmaer and Auerelie laid curled up facing each other in his bed. They had so much to say, but they did not know where to begin. Their adventures had led them to some of the strangest parts of Tamriel and beyond, but all they wanted to do was touch to make sure the other was real.

“I was starting to worry.” He kissed her forehead. “I thought maybe I’d… feel it somehow… if you…”

Auerelie smiled weakly. “I thought I wasn’t going to come back.”

“Yeah, for a while I didn’t think I would either.”

Agmaer told her about the College of Winterhold, Septimus Signus, and what happened in Blackreach. She listened to him tell his story, and she was in awe that this man could overcome such terrible trials.

It obviously pained him to talk about Jenassa’s illness and what happened to her at the Tower of Mzark. Jenassa came back changed. Her hair was growing in, and now she had soft fuzz covering her head. Her expressions were less unreadable since her eyebrows grew back in, but her skin was still unnaturally smooth and the firelight in her eyes never went out. Agmaer did not know how to explain it, but he worried for his friend. Jenassa seemed out of touch with the physical world but far more attuned with the metaphysical.

Auerelie explained the feeling of being partially soul trapped, and how she too, felt out of sync with the real world. In some ways, the Soul Cairn scarred her. Agmaer’s eyes were comically wide as she told him about the fight with Durnehviir and their subsequent conversation.

Agmaer pulled off her pendant of Auri-El, and the golden sun glowed faintly with its own light. Auerelie looked almost reverent as she took it back. Agmaer kissed the side of her head. “I brought it back just like you asked.”

“Thank you.” She kissed him. “Thank you, my sun and sky.” Agmaer made a pleased noise and then pulled her closer. “I…” She sighed. “When we’re done. After we stop this prophecy. After Harkon, I want… to rest.”

He nodded. “Alright. I’ll take you somewhere quiet and peaceful. I promise.”

“I’m tired of fighting, Agmaer.” Her eyes closed. “I don’t want my life to be a series of unending battles.”

“I love you.”

She snapped to attention at that phrase. Her expression softened as she ran her thumb across his cheek. “I love you, too. Surely, you must know that.”

He tugged gently on her braid. “Come back to the Reach with me.” He laughed. “I can teach you how to farm. But… it’s beautiful out there. Warmer than most places in Skyrim.”

Auerelie nodded though she would have agreed to go to Coldharbour with him if he asked. She drifted off to sleep as he told her about the newest crossbow designs Sorine had come up with.

 

*******

 

Finding out Dexion had gone blind was a devastating blow. Auerelie sat across from the priest with three Elder Scrolls between them. His hands smoothed over the surface of the table and the chairs next to him as if trying to map his surroundings.

“Your Eminence, does this always happen?”

“There’s always a chance,” he replied regretfully. “But there’s also a chance that I might recover.”

“Then there’s no way to read them? Can someone else from your Order come to Fort Dawnguard?”

Dexion shook his head. “There are so few of us now and many of them are even older than I.”

Isran cut in. “Besides, that would take too long.”

“I’m sorry, friends.” Dexion rubbed at his blindfold. “In my haste to read the first scroll, I neglected the careful mental preparation required.”

Auerelie sighed deeply then leaned back in her chair. “Then we’re stuck. But I guess it means the vampires are too.”

“But I still may be able to help you, my friend.” Dexion’s hands slid across the table until he touched one of the scrolls. “There is a ritual. It will be dangerous, and you may end up sharing my fate.”

“I… understand.” Auerelie knew that if Harkon succeeded, being blind would be the least of her worries. “Explain, please.”

“Scattered across Tamriel are hidden places known only as Ancestor Glades. Performing the Ritual of the Ancestor Moth within the glade can provide you with the answers you seek.” He tapped the casing of a scroll. “The moths will provide you with the second sight needed to decipher the scrolls.”

Isran scoffed. “Moths? We’re using  _ moths _ to read Elder Scrolls?”

Dexion seemed more amused than insulted. “It's no mere coincidence we are named Moth Priests. The voice of the Ancestor Moth has always been an integral part of reading the Elder Scrolls.”

Auerelie still looked unsure. “But how?”

“These moths maintain a connection to the ancient magics. When you find the glade, if you listen very closely, you should be able to hear their song.” He smiled gently. “A soft, harmonious trilling. It's through this ancestral chorus that the moths tap into a form of primal augur and become a conduit for deciphering the scrolls.”

Isran and Auerelie shared a look, and neither could not quite believe what Dexion was telling them.

“You’ve already gotten this far, Auerelie.” He slid his hand across the table until he was able to place his hand over hers. “You have three Elder Scrolls in your possession. And whether you believe it or not, the scrolls have their own mind. If they didn't want you to find them, they would have never allowed it. And because of this, I strongly believe you were meant to hear the ancestral chorus.” Dexion’s smile was sincere as he squeezed her fingers. “When we first met, you were difficult to look at. Your spirit was so bright. I truly believe that you’ve been touched by the Divines.”

Auerelie did not know what to say, and Isran politely turned his gaze from her stricken expression. She desperately wanted to believe in what Dexion was saying. Since the beginning, she had so much doubt, and now to hear someone say that she was touched by the Divines chipped away at the ever present fear that lived behind her ribs.

Isran tapped the table to get Dexion’s attention. “Do you know where this place is?”

“Yes. Mostly.” He cleared his throat. “It’s in the Pine Forest.”

“And that’s not a small area to cover, old man.”

Auerelie shushed Isran. “That’s more than we had. We have maps, and we have people. We’ll find it.”

 

*******

 

“No.”

Agmaer crossed his arms. “I’m not staying behind this time, my love.”

Auerelie pinched the bridge of her nose and prepared herself for the coming argument.

“Agmaer’s right,” Serana added. “We don’t know the exact location, and we don’t know what will happen when we get there.”

“I still don’t agree.” Auerelie looked between the two of them, her head tilted to look down on them.

“And I agree with Agmaer and Serana,” Jenassa added as she came up to them.

Jenassa looked small without her armor, but Auerelie could sense something incredibly powerful in her. From the odd look on Serana’s face, she wondered if she could sense it too.

“So you’re coming as well?” Auerelie asked with a sigh.

“Yes. The four of us can move quickly and cover more ground. And we’ll have the manpower for battle in case something goes wrong.” She looked at Auerelie with unnaturally bright eyes. “And something  _ always _ goes wrong.”

“Fine.” Auerelie barely resisted throwing up her hands in frustration. “We’re settled in for the time being anyway. We got reports out of Riften of a fierce snowstorm gathering in the southern province.” She sighed. “Everything from Autumnwatch Tower to the western edge of Falkreath will be buried in snow and ice.”

Agmaer nodded. “Good. give us plenty of time to fight about it,” he teased.

 

*******

 

“Auerelie!”

She looked up from the map spread out across her bed. A moment later, her door opened and Agmaer almost fell inside the room in his haste. He was breathing heavily, and his face was flushed. She wondered if he ran all the way here from the lakes.

“Auerelie, there’s a problem. You have to come right now.”

She got to her feet. “What’s going on?”

“Some high elves showed up here looking for you.” He grabbed her arm. “Isran’s pissed. And they’re Thalmor. Wearing the armor and everything.”

Auerelie’s blood ran cold. Thalmor. What could they possibly want bad enough to track her down. She let Agmaer tug her along while her mind raced, and he took her all the way to the waterfalls at the mouth of Dayspring Canyon.

And there, Isran and few members of the Dawnguard stood against a trio of altmer. Agmaer shoved her forward before the situation could deteriorate, and she stopped just short of running into their leader.

She looked up and audibly gasped in shock. “Ormindil?!”

“Auerelie,” he replied softly.

Agmaer looked between the two elves staring at each other. Ormindil was as tall as Auerelie, and their coloring was similar with the exception of his eyes being silver-blue.

Ormindil suddenly reached out and pulled Auerelie into his arms, hugging her tightly. She was too stunned to do anything but stand there. After a few moments, he let her go, holding her back at arm’s length to look at her. “I thought you were dead.”

“Ormindil,” she choked out. “Gods… what? Why are  _ you _ here?” She tried to ignore the others.

“You never came to port in Lillandril after your discharge.” He frowned. “Commander Ondolemar wrote me months ago. And I’ve been in Skyrim for weeks looking for you.”

Isran stepped forward, gowling, “What in Stendarr’s name is going on here?”

Auerelie turned on her heel. “I…” She still looked a little bewildered. “This is Admiral Ormindil. My elder brother.”

“Your brother,” Isran replied drily.

“Yes.” She looked over at Agmaer and found he had retreated off to the side.

Isran glared at them then turned and marched off grumbling about false alarms. The other members of the Dawnguard followed, leaving Agmaer behind to stand awkwardly.

Ormindil had two sailors standing at parade rest behind him. They kept up a disinterested facade, but Auerelie knew they were filing away every word and gesture.

“We have much to talk about.”

Absently, Auerelie nodded in response, and from there a short conversation in rapid-fire Altmeris took place. The result was Ormindil staying while his sailors left to hold over in Riften. Auerelie still looked out of sorts, and it put Agmaer on edge just to watch her.

Ormindil took his sister’s arm and tucked her into his side as he did when she was a child. “Auerelie, what has happened? Aunt Kadrarmend has been beside herself.”

“It’s a very long story.” She sighed. “Very long.”

“And who is this… nord?”

Agmaer straightened up under Ormindil’s harsh examination.

His tone made Auerelie pull away. The look she gave him was severe, and Ormindil could see the hardened soldier in his little sister. She reached out for Agmaer, and he came to her gladly. “This is Agmaer, a distinguished member of the Dawnguard. He is also my beloved.”

Ormindil blinked slowly, and it took his brain a moment to process his sister’s words. “You…” His brows knitted together. “You would… be… with a  _ nord _ ?”

“Yes,” she answered simply. She did not need Ormindil to understand, but she would not allow him to treat Agmaer unkindly.

Agmaer gently cleared his throat. “It’s… nice to meet you Ormindil. Auerelie’s told me a little about you.”

Ormindil nodded politely lest he open his mouth and incur his sister’s wrath.

Auerelie led them back up the winding, narrow road to Fort Dawnguard. The trek gave her some time to organize her thoughts and sort through some feelings on her brother’s sudden appearance. It was not that she did not care about Ormindil, but they had always had a strained relationship. He was fifty years older than her and had been well on his way to leadership in the Dominion’s navy when their parents were killed. She had no place in the life he was building, and so she was given to their paternal aunt, Lady Kadrarmend.

Auerelie took them all the way up to the fort’s ramparts while doing an admirable job of steering clear of her fellow Dawnguard. She liked to sit and watch the world go by when she needed a moment of peace. Now, she sat between her brother and lover and wished she could tap into that peace.

“I know you have so many questions, Ormindil. But… let me tell my story first.”

 

*******

 

“Gods above, Auerelie… that’s… so much.” Ormindil leaned back against the wall. It was just him and her. Agmaer left not long ago for dinner and to escape Ormindil’s piercing gaze. “Elenwen didn’t tell me about  _ any _ of that. She said you were dismissed and that you should have been home months ago. I had to go to Markarth to get any sort of answers. Ondolemar filled in some blanks.” He frowned. “I also happened into Captain Eariion. If it wasn’t for him, I would have surely thought you were dead. He told me about the Dawnguard.”

“Sometimes, I don’t believe half the things I went through were real.” She managed a smile. “But… I have the scars. I have three Elder Scrolls.” She laughed. “This is my life now. Fighting vampires. Foiling an attempt to blot out the sun. Traveling to planes of Oblivion.”

“Auerelie.” Ormindil reached out and took her hand, startling her. “I’m proud of you. For doing this. For staying to fight. I don’t think many people could do what you’ve done here.” He cleared his throat. “I know… things haven’t always been… easy between us, but you are my sister, and I do care about you deeply.”

She bowed her head, her shoulders sagging forward. “I didn’t think what happened to me would matter to the Dominion.” She sighed. “I  _ know _ what happened didn’t matter to the Dominion. Elenwen made that very clear. That’s… why I didn’t write.”

“And I know that’s partly my own fault.”

Auerelie absently pulled on her braid. “There’s so much more I want to say, but I don’t know how to say it.”

Ormindil gently lifted her face to look at him. “Well, I do know one place to start. Castle Volkihar. You said it’s on a island off the northeastern coast. You must be planning on taking it, yes? To defeat this Harkon and root out those of his court.”

She nodded. “Yes, but I don’t know when that will happen.”

“When the time does come, I will lend you a couple of ships. Frontal assault is almost never a good idea.” She opened her mouth to protest. “I have the ships at my command, Auerelie. You say the word, and they’re yours for battle.”

“Ormindil, you…” She leaned heavily on his shoulder. “You’ll really do this?”

“Of course. I can coordinate things with my people and Ondolemar.” He chuckled. “I guess it’s for the best that I decided to take an extended leave.”

She quickly sat up. “Really? You?”

Ormindil shrugged. “We’re not presently at war. It’s only a matter of time, but that won’t be for a while. I can be spared for the moment.”

“Thank you,” she replied softly.

He gave her a long, considering look. “But I do wish to discuss this… Agmaer. A human, Auerelie?” His nose wrinkled. “And a nord to make matters worse.” He looked as though the thought of his sister being with Agmaer physically pained him.

She scowled. “All you need to know is that I love him, and because of that, you  _ will _ treat him with the appropriate amount of respect.”

Ormindil shook his head. “I don't understand.”

“And you don't have to.”

“I know there are not many altmer in Skyrim--”

Auerelie snorted loudly. “Even if there were, my choice would be the same.” She turned to fully face Ormindil. “I ask that you do not make this an issue between us.” She heaved a sigh. “Surely, you agree that we already have more than enough.”

Ormindil very much looked as though he wanted to disagree, but in the end, he nodded sharply and let the subject drop.

 

*******

 

Isran grudgingly allowed Ormindil to stay provided he did not interfere with any Dawnguard business. His presence seemed to keep Auerelie on edge, and Agmaer hated how weary that made her look.

“You must be Auerelie’s brother.”

Ormindil turned to look at a dunmer in full Dawnguard regalia. She stood straight-backed, and her gaze weighed heavily on him.

“That’s right.” He nodded politely. “I am Ormindil. And you are?”

“Jenassa,” she replied sharply.

Ormindil felt something like dread crawl over his skin as he looked at this woman. He could not read her, which was disconcerting to anyone practiced in the art. It was her eyes that bothered him the most. They were more than the red her people were known for. To him, it was the same red of the infamous mountain, and they glowed eerily in the dim lighting.

“It is a pleasure,” he said smoothly. “I believe Auerelie mentioned recruiting you.”

“She did. Your sister commands a lot of respect here.” She looked him up and down. “It’s important to remember that.”

Ormindil kept his face placid. “I quite understand.” He did not relax until she walked away and out of view.

 

*******

 

“Move your feet!” Injard shouted as she whirled around with her greatsword. Erik barely managed to dodge the attack. “You have a shield. Use it.”

She advanced on him, and Erik was able to turn her blade aside. He lunged at her, longsword leaving a scratch against her armor.

“Good.” Injard stepped back. “You’re getting a lot better.”

Erik sighed. “Thanks.” He shook his shield arm, trying to regain some feeling.

 

*******

 

Ormindil watched Agmaer fiddle with a crossbow. Unlike the ones the others carried, this one was made entirely of metal. It looked heavy, but he handled it with ease. He fired at a few targets, hitting the center of each of them.

“You have good aim.” The ‘for a human’ part went unsaid but not unheard.

Agmaer forced a smile. “Thanks. Is there… something you needed?”

“I would like to discuss my sister, if you don’t mind.” Ormindil crossed his arms behind his back.

“What about her?” Agmaer set his crossbow aside and turned to give Ormindil his full attention.

“I’d like for you to call off this farce you call a relationship.”

Agmaer sighed. “No. And if Auerelie was here, she’d punch you for saying it. And I don’t know if you know, but she has a frightening right hook.”

“She’s doing good work here, but when it’s done, she should return to her people. I very much intend on taking her home again.”

“You can’t make those decisions for her.”

Ormindil frowned thoughtfully. “And if she does decide to go back to the Summerset Isles?”

“Then… I let her go.” It hurt him to say it, but it was the truth. “I love her. And whatever makes her happy, is good enough for me.”

Ormindil had expected more a fight, and Agmaer’s admission left him feeling wrongfooted. “I see.” He straightened. “I’ll leave you to your training.”

 

*******

 

Isran swung his war-hammer overhead, bringing it down with incredible force.

Auerelie knew she could not meet the force of the blow, so she used her sword to redirect the weapon. A shower of sparks rained down on them. She did not expect him to free a hand to continue the momentum to elbow her in the jaw.

She shattered back, tasting blood.

“Never leave yourself open,” he grunted, hefting the hammer over his shoulder. “It only takes a second. Again.”

She slid back into a fighting stance, sword in one hand, bound war axe in the other.

They stared at each other for a long moment, ignoring the gathering audience for their spar.

Auerelie moved first, thrusting her sword forward.

 

*******

 

“We’re not going to be able to find a pass through the mountains this time of year.” Agmaer leaned forward, tapping his fingers on a map of Skyrim. “We’ll have to go all the way around. Or wait until late spring.”

Auerelie shook her head. “That’s months from now. We’ll just have to go north around the Throat of the World.”

Jenassa crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing on the highly detailed map. “It will add weeks to our journey. More opportunity for something to go wrong.”

“It’s… not really a race at this point,” Serana cut in. “We have the Elder Scrolls. My father is stuck without them. And even if he did get them, no one would be able to read them.”

“But that leaves more time for vampires to prey on the innocent.”

“I know, Auerelie, but…” Serana sighed, “But it’s our best option. We wait until the mountain passes thaw, even more people will get hurt.”

“I agree with Serana.” Agmaer started to trace a path from the fort to Ivarstead. “We can travel hard until we reach Falkreath. Rest up, resupply, and move out. The real problem is actually finding the glade.”

All three women sighed at that.

“Gods, don’t we know it.” Auerelie frowned. “Falkreath Hold is not insignificant, but… we’re still ahead in the fight.” She started to roll up the map. “We’ll leave at the end of the week.”


	16. Unseen Visions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't have a beta, so mistakes are mine.

The journey to Ivarstead was slow-going, dogged with icy terrain from the relentless freezing rain. This was far from the first time that Auerelie wished that she was back in the warm embrace of the Summerset Isles. If possible, Jenassa looked even more miserable than she did. Agmaer rode several paces ahead of them, undeterred. And Serana, the least affected by the weather, brought up the rear.

Wilhelm, the proprietor of Vilemyr Inn, was more than happy to take in paying customers, and a very animated wood elf named Gwilin took their horses.

At dinner, the group sat pouring over a map of Falkreath Hold, and much to their frustration, most of the terrain was wilderness.

“And ideas on where to start?” Agmaer asked, leaning back into his chair. He quietly thanked Lynly as she laid out their meal.

“I don’t think I’ll be much help when to comes to directions,” Serana replied with a frown. The world had changed so much while she was away. A thousand years and now everything was disconcerting in its almost-familiarity.

Jenassa leaned forward, her eyes following the main roads. “This place is supposed to hard to find, yes? Remote?” She tapped against the map. “My best guess would be at the mountains to the south.”

Auerelie sighed. “Maybe. We could spend months in those mountains and never find the place. But…” She tapped to several marks right at the base of the mountain range. “Miners. We could try talking to the miners. See if they know anything.”

“Like what?” Jenassa took a long pull of mead. “They swing hammers and cart rocks for a living.”

“There may be somewhere they don’t dig. Maybe because of superstition or local legend or wards. Anything really.”

Agmaer’s brow wrinkled. “You make my people sound like a bunch of brainless barbarians.”

“That was not my intent, love.” Under the table, Auerelie knocked her leg against his. “Every culture has such stories. Including mine. Things passed along for a thousand generations until no one knows where it came from. But people still think it’s important all the same. A sort of… reverence for the wisdom of their ancestors.” She gave him a soft smile. “That’s why the miners are our best bet. They live off the land. They work the land. They raise their children to do the same.”

Jenassa heaved a sigh. “That’s as good as it’s going to get, I guess. I’m calling it a night.”

Agmaer nodded. “Good night, Jen. Starting out at first light.”

“Like always.”

 

*******

 

With good weather and hard travel, they made it to the town of Falkreath in less than two weeks, which was better than Auerelie was hoping for. It was not quite the deep winter yet, and while it did snow, it did not slow them more than usual.

Falkreath was small village nestled at the edge of the Pine Forest with the Jerall Mountains to the south. Winter came early here with storms rolling off the mountains to dump snow and freezing rain across the hold.

Auerelie grumbled to herself as she stomped ice and mud off of her boots before ducking into Dead Man’s Drink. Like most of the inns and taverns around Skyrim, this one was almost uncomfortably hot with heavy, wet air that smelled of food, mead, woodsmoke, and damp. As if reading her thoughts, Agmaer gently elbowed her in the side as he walked by.

“I said nothing.”

He laughed. “Not in Cyrodiilic anyway.”

Jenassa moved by her, trying to untangle her hair wet with snow. “I don’t see how you can stand this.”

Auerelie could not help but flash a cheeky smile. “I have a big, burly nord to keep me warm.”

Serana snickered, while Jenassa just rolled her eyes. “Well, see about getting us some food while I thaw out.”

Auerelie moved up to the bar, taking a seat. It took a few minutes for the publican to disengage herself from a group of nords already deep in their cups.

“Don’t see many high elves up this way.” She eyed Auerelie with something like suspicion. “Name’s Valga Vinicia.”

“I don’t suppose you do.” Auerelie straightened up. “I want to see about getting three rooms, meals, and maybe some information.”

Valga crossed her arms. “You got the septims to go along with all that?”

“Of course.” She set a small pouch of gold on the counter. “And I have some questions.”

“Go on,” Valga replied as she pulled the gold toward her.

“How much mining does Falkreath do?”

“Mining?” She took a moment. “Not too much. More money in timber around here. But, every couple of months, some folks come up from the south. They stay a week or so then move on. Heard a few of them talking about moonstone.”

Auerelie slid a few more coins across the counter. “Anything else?”

“Leader seems to be a man named Sjarmir. Huge old nord. Missing an eye.”

“You have my thanks.” Auerelie left a couple more coins before rejoining the others.

 

*******

 

“So we need to find a group of elusive nords that live like hermits in the Jerall Mountains and mine moonstone?”

Agmaer sighed. “When you put it like that…”

“It’s better than picking a random direction and hoping we trip over Ancestor Glade.”

Auerelie nodded sharply. “I agree with Serana.”

“The Jeralls span hundreds of miles,” Jenassa replied. “And don’t go suggesting that we split up.”

“We can’t waste too much time fighting about this. The weather is already bad and is only going to get worse.”

“Jenassa, please.” Auerelie drew in a deep, steadying breath. “We don’t have any good options right now. I’m trying to pick the one that offers a hint of a chance. I can’t make any promises, but I really do think it’s the best way to go.”

Serana shared a look with Agmaer then nodded. “Alright. We’re with you.”

Agmaer turned toward Jenassa with a soft expression. “Jen, you with us?”

After a long pause, she sighed heavily. “Yeah. I’m with you. None of you have let me down yet.”

A tight smile thinned Auerelie’s lips. “Well, between the four of us, we’ll be able to carry plenty of supplies. How about I put in an order at the general store tomorrow? And in the meantime, we take some time to enjoy sleeping in actual beds.”

 

*******

 

“Auerelie?” Agmaer pulled back the blankets to reveal the love of his life curled up in a ball wearing all of his woolen tunics and a pair of his fur-lined breeches.” He started to laugh.  “Are those my socks, too?”

She groaned, made a half-hearted attempt to take back the covers then rolled over. “Early,” she mumbled.

“I know. But you’ve been in bed for two days.” He plopped down next to her. “Can’t just sleep until the supplies get here.”

“Why not?” One eye cracked open, looking up at him with sleepy contempt.

Agmaer grabbed her leg, shaking her. “Come on. A little fresh air will be good. It’s not even snowing right now.”

She smiled and held her hands out. “Come back.” Her fingers curled as if to bring him to her. “I want my hands on you in the softest way.”

He had to kiss her. “Later. I promise.” It took a few more minutes of cajoling but Auerelie finally got up. He could not help but smile at the sleep lines across her face and her frizzy braid. “I got breakfast waiting.” He kissed her forehead before leaving.

The sun was high in the sky but even that could not warm the air. Winds carried the promise of more snow, bringing heavy gray clouds over the horizon. Auerelie nestled deeper into her coat, already wishing she were back in bed. Preferably with Agmaer.

She made her way down the single lane that passed through Falkreath. There were not many people out, mostly guards. The sound of the blacksmith’s hammer rang out over the din of farm animals. Gray Pine Goods sat right in the middle of town. Agmaer negotiated for their supplies, but he had a tendency to underestimate how many magicka potions they needed.

“Welcome to Gray Pines …” the owner trailed off as Auerelie fully stepped into view. “You come in here looking for trouble?”

She turned to him with a bland expression. “I came in here looking for magicka potions, actually.” As she spent more time in Skyrim, she came to better understand the nords’ distrust and outright hatred for altmer, but that did not make dealing with it any easier to bear. Usually, she just grit her teeth and tried to remain civil.

“I might got a few stored away.” He eyed her with a frown. “Don’t steal anything from my shop. You’ll regret it, elf.” With one last look of disdain, he went down to the cellar where he stored surplus and hard-to-sell merchandise.

Auerelie was exactly where he left her when he came back with a large, dusty trunk. He dropped it on the counter, and the contents rattled threateningly. Her eyebrows rose sharply.

“You going to look, or what?”

“How old are those potions?” She pulled the trunk across the counter and forced the lid open. There were several rows of bottles, none of them labeled and all of them coated with a thick layer of dust. “Seriously? Why do you still have these?” She sighed. “Is this it?”

“Take it or leave it, elf.” He crossed his arms.

Auerelie frowned. “Do you even know what any these are?” She pulled out a couple of bottles, holding them up to the light.

The shopkeeper shrugged. “Just junk I haven’t been able to sell.”

She closed her eyes and silently prayed for the gods to give her strength. “Nevermind. None of this is any good.” She sighed. “What about the order that was placed a couple of days ago?”

“What order?”

“Nord man wearing bluish armor with a gold sun across the chest…”

“Ah, Agmaer.” His looked Auerelie once over.

“Is that order coming on time?” She tried not to let frustration bleed into her words. “I’m one of his… companions.”

“Huh. Well, yeah. It’ll be here at week’s end.”

Auerelie nodded then turned on her heel to leave.

 

*******

 

“I just want to say that I thought this was a bad idea from the beginning.”

Auerelie sighed and pulled her scarf up higher. “I know, Jenassa.”

They slowly made their up up a narrow, steep trail winding ever deeper into the mountains. The first two days were relatively smooth going, but a relentless snowstorm moved in rapidly on the third day.

They were forced to take shelter in a shallow cave, huddled for warmth, and even Serana looked miserable despite being all but immune to the cold.

On the fifth day, they lost Agmaer to an avalanche, and Auerelie watched with wide eyes as the snow swept him away. Serana and Jenassa both struggled to hold her back. That night, Auerelie did not sleep, still seeing Agmaer’s terrified face behind her eyes.

Serana managed to find the miners in a small settlement carved into the side of the mountain. The ingenuity of it would have impressed her any other time, but right now, Serana had to keep their leader putting one foot in front of the other.

“We don’t get visitors this time of year.” Sjarmir was a bear of a man wrapped head to toe in thick pelts. Most of the villagers were dressed the same. “You three look rode hard and put away wet.”

Auerelie bared her teeth. “We have questions, nord.”

Jenassa slowly wrapped her hand around Auerelie’s upper arm, ready to pull her back.

“Best fix that tone, girl. This is our land.”

Serana slid between them, her mouth curving into a charming smile. “Forgive my friend, it’s been a long, hard journey for us.”

Auerelie did not hear a word of their conversation as she stared unseeing into the distance. The snow burned against her skin, but she barely felt it. Jenassa had to drag her into their borrowed lodgings before she froze.

 

*******

 

“Auerelie?” Serana moved to sit beside her. “Auerelie, please. Say something.”

“Why didn’t you let me go?” Her jaw clenched painfully. “I could have saved him. I...”

“No,” she replied softly. “It happened too fast. And it was not your fault.”

“What am I supposed to do now?”

“Continue on with the mission. Keep on fighting. The people of Skyrim depend on us… on you… to see this through.” Serana took her hands, holding them tightly. “I’m sorry about Agmaer. I really am.”

Auerelie closed her eyes, finally feeling the burn of tears. “My heart is broken.” Her voice broke. “My heart is gone now.”

 

*******

 

Sjarmir was kind enough to give them supplies to make up for those lost in the avalanche. Serana carried their newly marked map, and neither she nor Jenassa expected Auerelie to lead from here on out. There were several trails marked, and they all looked promising. They could only hope that one of them lead to Ancestor Glade. Jenassa scouted ahead, careful not to lose sight of her companions.

“Do you think that we’ll beat your father?” Auerelie looked up, her eyes bloodshot and ringed with dark circles.

Serana nodded sharply. “Yes. We made it this far.” She pulled at her hood, tucking it lower over her face. “We just have to keep fighting.”

“And when the fighting is done?” She tugged at the pendant under her shirt. “What then?”

“You keep going. Agmaer would want you to have a life. He loved you, and all he wanted was for you to be happy.”

“How can I move on? Again. I have lost everything.” She blinked back tears. “Where do I put these burdens down?”

“You still have me and Jenassa… and the Dawnguard.” Serana took Auerelie’s hand, suddenly concerned at how cold her skin was.

“Yeah,” she replied with a tired nod. “Come on. Jen’s waving at us.”

 

*******

 

“We have to go back!”

Auerelie shook her head. “We’re not going back. There’s nothing to go back to.”

Jenassa’s eyes narrowed to crimson slits. “This is foolish. If you were thinking clearly, you would see this. It’s been over a week. There is nothing out here!”

“Damn it, Jenassa!” Auerelie sprung to her feet, her eyes flashing. “What the fuck else are we supposed to do! Without that bow we leave Harkon and his minions to find it.”

She tugged sharply at her hair then looked to Serana. “Talk some sense into her. We’re running out of supplies. We might not even have enough for a return trip.”

“Then leave.” Auerelie’s voice was low and cold. “Go. I’ll keep going.”

“You’ll die out here on your own,” Jenassa replied with a hiss. “I loved Agmaer, too. He was my friend.”

Auerelie recoiled. “ _ Don’t _ . Don’t bring him into this.”

Serana stood next to Jenassa. “And we’re not leaving you to die.”

Auerelie was poised to reply but something in the distance caught her attention. She stared unblinkingly to the northwest.

“What are you looking at?” Jenassa turned. “That’s…”

“Smoke.” Auerelie’s eyes narrowed as though it would help her see further. “Someone’s up there with a fire.” She grabbed her bag.

“We don’t know who’s up there.”

“Doesn’t matter. There’s warmth and maybe someone to trade with or give us some damned directions.”

Serana sighed. “She’s right. There’s nothing else for us to do.”

They packed up their meager camp and started up a steep, winding path toward the faint glow of a fire.

 

*******

 

Serana rounded the bend first, one hand on her dagger and her other flickering with magic. Jenassa followed, bow ready, and Auerelie trudged on at the rear.

Serana gasped, her eyes widening.

Jenassa jumped the last couple of feet ready to fire, but her bow immediately fell from slackened fingers.

“What’s happening?” Auerelie rushed forward, her stiff fingers curling around the hilt of her sword.

A small plateau had been cleared of snow and a bright fire burned merrily for a small campsite. Auerelie slid to a halt next to Jenassa. And there haloed by firelight was Agmaer, looking just as shocked to see them as they were to see him. For a few moments, no one moved. Auerelie ended the silence with a soft, broken sound that was a precursor to a sob.

“You’re alive.” Serana shook her head. “You’re…”

Agmaer looked tired with various bruises and healing cuts, but he was whole. He stepped toward Auerelie, opening his arms, and she threw herself against him.

“How?” Jenassa’s eyes were suspiciously wet.

He moved with Auerelie, rearranging them next to the fire. The other women joined them. “I got lucky. There was a overhang and I was able to get under that before the snow threw me down the mountain.” His hand tangled in Auerelie’s hair, and he rocked her slowly as she cried.

“I’ve been praying to the Gods that one of you would see this fire.” He leaned back, looking up at the bright sky.

“Smart,” Jenassa replied with a strained smile but relief in her voice.

“And there’s something else, too. I think I found Ancestor Glade.”

Auerelie shot upright, nearly smacking her head into Agmaer’s chin. “What?”

“I’m… pretty sure I found the glade. There’s this cave not far from here, and it looks completely untouched by ice and snow. And I saw one of the ancestor moths… at least it looked like the one Dexion showed me in one of his books.”

Serana lowered her head, tucking her chin against her chest. At this moment, she felt like they were nearing the end. Relief warred with sorrow and bitter regret. Harkon’s days were finally numbered.

Jenassa laughed in disbelief. “Only you could fall off a mountain and just happen to find a mystical glade that no one’s seen for centuries.” Silently, she thanked The Reclamations. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”

Despite the ugly bruising on his face, he flashed Jenassa a boyish grin. “I do what I can.”

“What you  _ can _ do is never scare us like that again,” Serana replied with a shake of her head.

Auerelie pushed her hair back from her face, and she hoped that no one noticed how much her hands were shaking. “We get some sleep and start out in the morning.”

 

*******

 

Agmaer led them to the mouth of the cave, and they could feel warm, wet air. “I didn’t get too far, so I don’t know how far down it goes.”

The mouth of the cave opened to bare stone that was warm to the touch. There was a slight but steady slope downward as they moved on. Slowly, moss appeared followed by hardy ferns and vines.

“Not very impressive,” Serana scoffed with a frown.

Agmaer nudged her on. “You’ll see.”

Suddenly, the cave expanded into a cavern large enough for trees to grow. Auerelie reached out and ran her fingers along the rough bark, and she could feel the hum of latent magic. She wondered if Serana and Jenassa could feel it too.

Agmaer pushed back a curtain of moss. “Ladies…” He ushered them on.

Beyond, the cavern expanded even further. Waterfalls ran down slopes of smooth rock, collecting in numerous pools. The roots made a sort of partition, keeping the water flowing to the bottom. Bright beams of light illuminated trees with delicate flowers. The air was heavy with the scent of earth and water.

At the bottom of the cavern was a large, deep pool of water from which a single, massive tree grew, it’s branches reaching up to the sunlight.

“This is… amazing,” Jenassa murmured.

Auerelie nodded. “This is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.”

“Come on, I think I see that draw knife Dexion described.” Serana gently pulled Auerelie along.

Once Auerelie started cutting away sections of the canticle trees, the ancestor moths started to swarm around her. In the beat of their tiny wings, she could hear the music--the Ancestral Chorus.

“You’re glowing…” Serana reached out for one of the moths, but it deftly avoided her.

The hum of ancient magic premenated Auerelie’s senses and that was all that she could see or feel or hear. She started toward the mother tree in the center of the cavern, and the others followed at a distance.

The pool was deeper than it looked, coming up to her chest, but she pushed on. After pulling herself up to sit at the tree’s roots, she unbound the first Elder Scroll.

Auerelie slowly opened the scroll and magic rushed through her. The first scroll filled her with warmth, showing visions of Auriel's Bow. The second scroll’s images blended with the first, a sort of harmony that mortals could barely comprehend. The third scroll burned. Magic rushed white-hot through her veins. She could not see the physical world, blind to all but the power of the Elder Scrolls.

 

*******

 

“...relie...”

“Auerelie?”

She woke with a gasp, her chest heaving. After blinking several times, the world started to come back into view. Cold, wet, and still pulsing with strange energy, she looked up at three very concerned faces.

“What happened?”

“You passed out after you read the third scroll.” Serana now held the sealed scrolls. “We thought you were lost when you fell into the water.”

Auerelie closed her eyes, still seeing the images the scrolls burned into her mind. “I think… I  was lost.” She dug the heel of her hands into her eyes, rubbing.

“Come on, let’s get you on your feet.” Agmaer and Jenassa got her on her feet. He pulled his cloak around her. “And got to get you into some dry clothes.”

Auerelie stared at him, eyes unfocused.

“Auerelie?”

“I saw it,” she replied softly. “I know where Auriel's Bow is.”


End file.
